


The Promise

by fanwork12345



Series: What could have been . . . [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Friendship focused, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:55:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24030178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanwork12345/pseuds/fanwork12345
Summary: Jaime and Elia's last converstion
Relationships: Friendship - Relationship, Jaime Lannister & Elia Martell, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: What could have been . . . [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724029
Comments: 50
Kudos: 75





	1. Her Last Wish

**Author's Note:**

> I had a bit of inspiration so wrote this. Mentions of death, traumatic incidents, incest. Feedback welcome but if you don't like it can you phrase it respectfully.

The city's stench hadn't improved Jaime thought sourly as he rode through the streets as fast as he could without trampling anyone. He had chosen a white horse, perhaps that would amuse her he thought. Make her smile a little. _The white knight here to visit the dying lady._ Something inside him flinched away at that thought. It was all Tyrion's fault. When he had found out his brother was for the first time preparing to leave Casterly Rock in order to not see their sister at Stormsend he was equally surprised, delighted and concerned.

"Where are you going?"

"I've been summoned to the capital." he had been searching his room and was in no mood for distraction.

"Why?" there had been a genuine note fear in his voice. The King was no friend of the Lannisters.

"The Queen has summoned me. it will be a short visit. You will have to host the Swyft's on your own that is all. Just don't make too many chicken jokes, they're not that stupid."

"The Queen?" His brother still sounded worried.

"Yes, the Queen. There is only one so you can't be that confused." Tyrion looked even more concerned.

"Jaime you cannot say things like that, not there, not here even. Anyway that's not what I meant, so it's true then, the rumour that she's . .dying."

"Gods you need to stop gossiping with Aunt Genna Tyrion. She is quite well actually, she wrote to me so." he lied, "I am just going to visit her. It's been a long time." Tyrion winced at his snappish tone but Jaime was in too need of a hurry to explain himself. She can't be dying, he thought. He hadn't seen her since Rhaegar's coronation but still her letters were still so full of life and personality. Jaime disliked reading but it was worth it for her infrequent but thoughtful musings.

Even though his mind circled the phrase around his head. Round and round and round. _She can't die._ His body however acted differently. He rushed the servants, the packing and was away within a few hours of reading it, charging on his white horse.

As he got closer and closer to the city though, the one track thought began to falter. As he raced by the familiar buildings, the same streets he tried to push down the awful questions. Why am I racing? Why would she ask me to do this, to come back here of all places?

Her letter had been unusually vague and it had ended with : _I know it is too much to ask, please I do but it would I would really appreciate it if you could come as soon as it would be convenient for you. I really need to speak with you in person._

To ask him to come back here. To the city he saved. His greatest act. The act that had ruined him. It was strange how little it had changed in these years, how little him and Aerys had left their marks. He hears the word the Kingslayer whipped by him as he galloped towards the Red Keep. That had changed. No white cloak now. Fine, he thought, the cost was too high for one.

The day before he had sent a message to the Queen, informing her of his imminent arrival and was pleased to see no welcoming party. No King and Queen with their vapid lovesick looks. No serious looking Arryn who would no doubt get several stress headaches from his visit alone. No silly, simpering courtiers. I saved you all, he thought venomously as he swept through the corridors. Some familiar guards and knights stopped open mouthed as he stalked by, a girl he vaguely recognised dropped her platters of food causing spatters of gravy to decorate several Ladies and Lords finery.

He reached her chamber and dismissed the nervous page. There at the door stood Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell flanking the door. There was a silence.

"I'm here to see the Queen. She asked for me personally." Jaime didn't enjoy the discomfort on the knights faces as much as he thought he would. There was still a part of him, a part he hated, that wanted to be them. That wanted their approval. His heroes.

Lady Ashara opened the door and started.

"Oh, you're here. Good. Elia he's here. Well let him in." she ordered her brother. She too seemed unchanged. Her fine dark hair was tied up and her violet eyes had dark shadows underneath them. Jaime noted smears of blood on her sleeve. Suddenly for some reason she made it all real. Beyond that door, Elia lay but it wasn't the Elia he remembered. This Elia might not be dying but she was definitely sick. Ashara's tired, sorrowful expression confirmed this more than any baseless rumours. They had never been close but he had never doubted her friendship and loyalty to the Queen. "What do you mean you're not sure? Do you want to go and ask the Queen herself? Ask her whether she wants to see the visitor she specifically asked for?" Ashara demanded of her brother then shook her head in annoyance. "Come on in, Lord Lannister." The title made Jaime think of his father as always. The man he had been. Powerful, immovable, unstoppable until his head ended up on a spike, looking like a disgusting, engorged fruit. He followed her into the room.

The chamber was very hot which made his mood lift a little. She was still the same, trying to turn rooms into deserts. The then smell hit him. Someone, he suspected Ashara had scented the air with smelling salts that he remembered she liked but underneath was the scent of sickness. "Ser Jaime." a voice quiet but joyful floated out from under the canopy of the bed. There Queen Elia was huddled under blankets and surrounded by a few ladies and servants. Her face was hollowed making her dark eyes huge, her hair was thinner and duller and her bones stuck out sharply. But she was smiling. Everything that had been tormenting him the past week. Coming here, the stares, that name . . it faded in sharp contrast to that smile.

He smiled back and walked quickly to her side. He wanted to clasp her hand but made himself stop. It wouldn't do for rumours to spread. "Please leave us, Ashara see to the children. No-one is to enter unless I command it." she addressed the room. Ashara and all the others curtsied and left. He sat down next to her and was about to speak when she turned her head and addressed someone else. "Your Grace, if you would be so kind to give us some privacy." Jaime snapped his head up, he hadn't realised there was anyone else left in the room. Lady Lyanna was stood in the corner holding a basket of bandages. She could have faded into the furnishings and I wouldn't have noticed, he thought nastily. She was pale and fidgety like a child and wearing some grey, drab dress to honour her Stark heritage he supposed. She also wore a crown. The sight made a small flame of anger flare inside him.

"I don't," she began again, " I think it would be best if I stay." Jaime fought the urge to snap at her. Elia rested her small, slim hand on his. A gentle warning..

"Ser Jaime has travelled a long way and we have much to discuss. Why don't you go and see the children. I think Egg is still a little upset." she smiled at Lyanna but Jaime was pleased to see it wasn't a true one like the one he had received. 

Lyanna looked at their clasped hands her grey eyes unhappy. He hated her eyes, just like her brother's: cold, boring and judgemental. Jaime could still see Ned Starks cold look of disgust when his pardon was announced. He had advocated for Jaime's arrest and for him to be executed or take the black. His insistence led to Jaime promising him that if he was so desperate for Jaime to come North and freeze with him he should just ask accompanied with a wink. Ned Stark hadn't found it amusing and he had received a sharp elbow in the ribs from the Queen too. Lyanna had been shocked too, at Aerys body lying there like something out of a butchers shop. She had clasped her squalling brat tighter as if Jaime would leap out and attack them both her grey eyes full of confusion and fear. And judgement. Always judgement.

"Well I think I should stay. I'm here to help you and I'm not sure this is appropriate."

"Appropriate?" He tried to inject as much venom into his voice as he could. The hand on his squeezed harder.

"Yes, well the king," she emphasised the word," I think would like to know that well you are in the city and well I would like to/"

"Lyanna, it would please me greatly if I could speak to him alone. We have much to catch up on and I fear it will bore you," she continued before the other woman could protest, "no, no, no. You have stayed by my side almost . . constantly and I appreciate your dedication but we may discuss distressing things such as Aerys." Lyanna blanched. "So you see why don't you come back, perhaps in an hour?" It was phrased like a question but Jaime could hear the authority in her words. Lyanna wavered, her crown slipping slightly about her brow.

"I only want you to get better. " she said finally. Something flickered across Elia's face but it was gone before Jaime could decipher it.

"I know." The Queen replied, her smile a little tighter. "Thank you Lyanna."

"Yes, thank you." Jaime couldn't help adding in his falsest voice. Lyanna left, her face flushed.

"Thank the gods she's gone. Is she worried I've come to ravish you or something?" he asked her cheerfully. The Queen rolled her eyes.

"I doubt her primary concern is that we are lovers. I think she's a bit afraid of you." The last bit was apologetic as if it was her fault. Jaime wasn't so sure, he had seen her head out of the room. There had been anger, sadness and jealousy too but not fear, it takes much to frighten a wolf. Jaime looked at her and almost wished Lyanna Stark would wander back in with her silver prince and his harp and wreaths of winter roses. Better to focus on them, the anger, the fury than whatever this was. You couldn't swing a sword at sickness.

"So," he cleared his throat, " you wanted to see me. I've come, on a white horse too. What is all this dramatics about? Really the attention seeking gone too far. I nearly killed a maid today, she was so shocked."

She paused. " I wanted to speak with you. It has been too long. I knew you wouldn't want a royal progress to Casterly Rock and you rarely leave it." There was a hint of reproach in her voice.

"I leave once or twice a year," he protested.

"Yes to visit Stormsend."

"Robert Baratheon is excellent company. What? I love my good brother dearly you know that." Elia glared at him. "Ok, you're right. It's Stannis. I mean he's such a personality. And the teeth grinding . . " she was still glaring at him. "Fine I'm visiting Cersei. Ok? You've called me all the way here to tell me off for being an attentive brother?" She knew, he could tell from her expression.

"I'm sure Cersei appreciates all your attentions, I have to ask though the gold that you have been sending her it seems excessive/"

"It's for the children." Jaime couldn't understand this, was this what she wanted to discuss? 

"Yes the children." Her voice was suggestive. Jaime froze. "it's ok Jaime. Do you remember years ago the story I told you about the Water Gardens and when Daenerys looked out she couldn't tell which were noble which were baseborn. I just worry that the gold isn't going where you think it is. Robert's spending is out of control. The brothel keepers throw a parade every time he visits." she said dryly. She fumbled in her side drawer and bought a velvet box. "Daenerys, the princess of peace. I wanted to name Rhaenys Daenerys or Myriah perhaps but that's all in the past now. Do yo recognise them?" She drew out several long, silvery necklaces that Jaime instantly knew. Queen Rhaella had worn them often. "She gave them to me, after Rhaenys was born, a way to show her . . well show me I suppose that I was welcome. Like a daughter. She wanted to give it to her own daughter but they had all died until Daenerys of course. Who she never lived to meet. " Jaime stared at the silvery glints, last seen around Rhaella's neck.

"I'm going to give them to Daenerys now of course. I should have done before but something always stopped me. They're to symbolise the rebirth of Valyrian customs. Perfect for the silver princess. " she twined them round her fingers, " Silver was never my colour anyway." she added a little sadly. Jaime didn't know what to say. He didn't like to think of the Queen and her long life filled with woe. _Sometimes in his darkest moments he wondered would she have thanked him for killing the man who terrorised her or spat at him for killing her king and her husband like so many others_? She had been sent to Dragonstone though to avoid the King's planned inferno and he had never seen her after, he couldn't face it and then he no longer had the choice as the King's last gift killed her.

"So that's it then. Just some necklaces and a lecture on finance. I am the golden lion you know." His voice came out harsher than he wanted but what did she expect, bringing him here? No-one called him the golden lion, no-one would ever call him that again. "What do you really want, you best be quick. The Stark girl will go running to the King or someone else will and he'll come here and kick me out. Or torture me to death with his music." She put the necklaces away.

"Actually I took care of that. I managed to get hold of one of his books and well create a diversion. I messed with a translation, he'll be puzzling over it for hours but you're right I was too harsh with Lyanna. She'll go and see him. And his music is . . well it's still wonderful, he's started writing songs for me again. They've both been so attentive, so kind, it makes me want to . . well enough about them." Jaime remembered the day he left, it had been raining a little and their hair was plastering against their foreheads. The King with his Stark girl were wrapped up in each other, in some aura of inexplicable love. "I guess I'm the boring wife character in this song then. " She had told him before he saddled his horse. He had wanted to tell her that was nonsense but a small part understood. Rhaegar and Lyanna were extraordinary, their love emphasising their beauty and talents. Their love story would descend through the generations becoming so embroidered Jaime doubted Elia wouldn't be anything more than a footnote. The wife. The delicate, boring wife that the repressed, passionate prince had to escape from to get his happy ever after. It had made Jaime furious but what could he do? She had risked much to help him. He could have told her he loved her. He wasn't in love with her but still would the love of a friend have helped soothe the bitterness. He could tell her now. He kept quiet.

She turned her whole body so she was facing him, their hands still clasped. "It's my daughter."

"Rhaenys?"

"Yes, you saved her remember?" she said smiling. He did. Her trembling blood soaked body and that cat she had clung too as if it was helping her breathe. It had scratched him, the scrawny bastard but it made the little princess smile.

"You saved her. No-one else did. I worry she needs a protector." Jaime was confused, did she wish him to come back? That was impossible.

"It . . I wanted to ask you to find someone. You know what this place. . . is. You know what it is really like. I need someone who is loyal to her. There is the Kingsguard obviously but where were they before? Egg may have their loyalty one day and his training will help protect him but Rhaenys was only allowed to learn basics. She's my daughter Jaime, I can't leave this world without providing some protection." Jaime's blood went cold. So it was true. The baseless gossip and heresay. She had always been delicate but she had always survived. Always. He let go of her hand.

"You are . . you are dying?" He hated that his voice trembled and that her face softened in pity. He didn't want her pity.

"I'm sorry Jaime."

"Why are you apologising?"

"Hey you can't snap at me, I'm on my deathbed. Everyone has to be nice to me. It's in the rules." Her tone was petulant but her smile was amused.

"The rules?"

"Yes, it's etiquette Even if you despise me you must praise me and my stoic acceptance of my fate and make up and embellish my qualities and achievements after I'm gone. Connington will go purple at the memorial. Now I need you to do something for me and you really don't have much choice."

"No?"

"Well first I am a noble born lady asking a gallant knight on a quest. On my deathbed too, extra poetic. Second I am still the Queen and you are my subject, you should do as I say as though I am not currently wearing it, I have a crown, Third it will give you something to do and you always love a challenge, you can't not accept one. You can't mope around the Rock forever. Fourth, it's my dying wish. For you to reject it would be a display of gross, callous attitude." Jaime began to laugh though still a part of him wanted to cry.

"You can't use your deathbed to get people to do things for you. What would the High Septon say?"

"What I tell him too," she countered, "Anyway, what else is a deathbed for?" Jaime could tell how hard she was trying not to cry. He took her hand again. This close he could smell the faint, underlying scent of her perfume. "My fifth reason is you are my friend and my daughter is an innocent. It is a task that will bring you no dishonour."

"A protector?"

"A knight or one of sorts anyway. We both know what a title can hide. Do you know of Jonquil, who protected Queen Alysanne? Someone like that, loyal to my daughter. Someone who would give their life for her. Someone she could trust with her secrets, her counsel. They should be noble but with a good, sensible head on their shoulders. A good heart. Someone true and just."

He stared at her. He had always seen her as sensible but this description was right out a song.

"A true knight? Hmmm well that will be easy. There are those aplenty." he replied sarcastically. They didn't exist, surely she knew that?

"Of course there aren't, that is what makes them special, what she deserves. Anyway it doesn't have to be a knight just/"

"Aemon the Dragonknight reborn. Coming right up."

"Fine not a true knight, just find someone . . . .worthy. Please?"

How could he refuse her? Part of him wanted too, it was in a sense an impossible task but it was the only thing she had ever really asked of him. She had saved him, what was this in return?

"Of course."

"You promise you will look, really look?"

"I promise."

"You really shouldn't agree to things so rashly, oh how you remind me of Oberyn." she teased him, her face alight with joy. "I ordered some sugar rolls for him, when he gets here."

Jaime had never met this person he had been so often compared too. "So, they are on the way?"

"Yes, as fast as they can. They will get here, they promised me. I can't wait to see them. Doran and Oberyn are bringing the children too. It will be the first time I meet some of them." And the last Jaime added in his head. Elia always got like this when she spoke of her brothers. Together trapped in the Red Keep with the lengthening shadow of madness threatening them she had spoken of her home and her very different but equally loving brothers. He was pleased she would get to see them though he thought it would have been nicer for her to visit home. _She will never see Dorne again._ The revelation made his heart break a little. At least her brothers would be here and she would smile that smile and eat that horribly spicy food together and complain of the cold together.

"Oberyn has another daughter now, tell me have you given that any more consideration?"

"Oberyn's daughters? No, not really." She swatted him feebly, her face still shining.

"No, a daughter of your own, an heir."

"I have an heir. Trust me Tyrion will run the Rock well. He is far too clever for his own good."

"Oh I wish I could have met Tyrion again. The last time was when he was a baby, do you remember? Gods that makes me feel old. Well what about a wife?" He did remember. her mother had wished for them to marry or for Cersei and Oberyn too. Their father's response had been to insult her and announce his daughter as the future queen. What would have happened if that had come to pass? Would Rhaegar have ridden past his beautiful, golden sister for the Stark girl?

"I do not want a wife. You are as bad as Sybell Westerling. One more comment about her daughters very good birthing hips and I'll strangle her with that ridiculous necklace of hers." He respected Elia's opinion but that didn't mean she was right about everything. Cersei and he were meant to be. She tutted at him.

He leaned in to reminisce with her of their homes and families as they had often done together when the door swept open dramatically. Jaime sighed. He swore everything they did had to have a dramatic flair to it.

"Lord Lannister."The King's voice was distinctly unimpressed.

Elia shot him a look and he dutifully bowed and addressed the King.

"I did not know you were coming. I'm afraid Elia is far too ill to accept any challenging visitors. You must wait until she is better." The King's voice was steep with conviction. He hasn't accepted she's dying Jaime realised. "Elia I have finished for you that song I was working on. The one about that day in Dragonstone together."

"Oh, how wonderful will your other wife be here too?" It was out of Jaime's mouth before he could stop it. Elia's hand tightened on his and then she let go. She began to cough loudly and the King rushed to her side and gathered her up in his arms. She looked so small. The hacking noise made him feel ill but once he looked at her eyes he saw the message: go. He backed out of the room and walked away.

On his way out he passed Lyanna Stark herding the children through the corridors. She paled a little but he swept passed sparing only more than a glance for one. There were two dark haired girls, one with violet eyes the other with dark brown ones. The latter held a black menace he would recognise anywhere. Her eyes widened not with judgement or condemnation but with joy and he swore . . recognition. It both chilled and thrilled him. Was it better for her to remember the attempt on her life? Was it better to be scarred and knowledgeable or innocent and susceptible?

_I saved her. That young girl with her black cat. I saved them._

Late the next day when the news had spread of the Queen's demise last night had spread to the inn he was staying at.. She had died in her sleep peacefully some said. Others said she had died from some agonising illness only Dornish people could get. Someone said she had been poisoned. It didn't matter. She never got to see her brothers. The bells should ring all day he thought. She had help save that city as much as he had. She had saved him. Jaime sat in his room. The next day he was still in the same position when a serving girl entered with some food.

"My Lord?" she asked uncertainly.

He looked at her, an ordinary girl with a tabby cat weaving itself between her skirts. "Is it yours the cat?"

"Oh I'm sorry My Lord. I'll get rid of it. Its a stray, comes for the food."

"No, no it's fine. Set the plate down and inform the stableman to saddle my horse." He thought of another girl with another cat. There would be no point in letting grief consume him. He had to find this person. He had to fulfil her last wish. His last promise to her.


	2. The Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime's search and discovery for the protector.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter. Mentions of violence, death, incest and traumatic events. Feedback welcome. All characters belong to GRRM. I kind of turned Jaime into batman with all the waiting in dark corners stuff at the start. The opinions of some of the characters are supposed to be from Jaime's POV so it's how he views them. This is the middle chapter, one more to round out this story, when they go to the ball and stuff. All mistakes mine

Jaime never forgot his promise to the Queen but his enthusiasm dimmed the minute he got back home. The loud clang of the great, golden doors felt final somehow.The routine resumed. He couldn't quite believe any of it had happened, it had been over so quickly. He felt a surge of resentment at the King for interrupting their final time together, what was one afternoon to a man who had had the opportunity of lots of time with his wife? Tyrion appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Jaime." he greeted him," I am so sorry. I heard it was painless, that is something at least." Jaime stared at him blankly. He was almost certain it hadn't of been painless unless she had been given copious amounts of milk of the poppy. She hated milk of the poppy, she had told him so when , , , when had she told him that? He drew a blank and felt a small pit of terror open up inside him. A week and already the memories were shifting and changing shape. She had told him that, he knew. Maybe in a letter? But why could he picture it? She hated the feeling of complete loss of control, no inhibitions. Her last words would have been slurred or unintelligible . Maybe she had told the King and the Stark girl to go fuck themselves? That thought made Jaime smile even though he knew that was incredibly unlikely. Tyrion hovered around like a buzzing fly.

"Jaime, I got rid of the Swyfts so you don't need to worry . . " he trailed off as Jaime went into his bedchamber and slammed the door. He began searching for the letters and after he had read every single one , carefully bundled them into an ornate box that he hid under a loose panel in his bed.

He didn't read them again for five years.

The next four years passed both slowly and quickly at the same time. Some days he would wander around the halls, wishing for night to come so the day would be over. Some days were better, filled with the anticipation of seeing Cersei. It couldn't be too often, as upset as he was to be away from her even he saw the wisdom of that. Robert, he thought was a fat, drunken lout but even he surely had some limit to his stupidity. Not to mention his brothers. Stannis who made Jaime wonder who he should pity more his long-suffering wife or his long-suffering teeth. On further reflection, remembering his few encounters with Selyse definitely made him side with the teeth. And Renly, who was as pretty and had as much substance as Dornish summer dresses. The only thing those two seem to agree on is their dislike of his sister and he knew they longed for her downfall. 

About three years after his visit to Kings Landing as he mentally referred to it he received a letter from the princess. It was short and formal but beneath it he could sense a deeper meaning. She was reaching out, probably in secret in defiance of her father, her stepmother and the realms opinion of him. It warmed something inside him that had been barren for a while and reignited some of his energy. For the past three years he had mainly been relying on Tyrion and his close friend, Ser Addam Marbrand, a trustworthy and dependable man. He had never told them the exact details, only that he wanted a champion a knight or fighter with a truly just nature. Someone who could be relied on, a hero in the making. He might as well have asked for Aemon the Dragonknight reborn.

Jaime could not fault their dedication. Tyrion, he suspected was pleased that Jaime had any interest at all apart from their sister and Addam seem to enjoy travelling around the realm seeking great talent in all corners. Potential candidates were invited to the Rock for a select dinners hosted by Tyrion whilst Jaime watched from the wings. He only made a brief appearance if he saw true potential which was rare even in the few people that had made it past Addam's and Tyrion's inspection. But there was always something not quite right. Too vain. Too brash. Too hungry for glory. Too stupid. Too ambitious. Some he even challenged to a friendly duel to see their skills and was left with a sense of frustration. They were good, some excellent but there was always something missing. He had been at one of his lowest ebbs before he had received the princess' letter. The Westerling's had been invited around and Ser Raynald had been finally crossed off the list. A good knight but he was under serious influence of Lady Sybell a woman Jaime cold never in good conscious give an easy access route to the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. His brief appearance also meant he had to endure another lecture about her family's fertility history.

But the letter had came so Jaime threw a bit more energy into it. He even disguised himself ad went to a local tourney. The first in years. The results were disappointing. No-one came near enough and when he got back he found Tyrion out of his mind with worry after his brother's unexpected disappearance. Jaime had blushed further at Tyrion's poorly hidden amusement of his dyed hair and roughspun clothes. 

A few moons later he began again his annual visit to Stormsend. "You don't have to go Jaime." Tyrion said. " I will. Roberts got some great wine. And out of the two of us only I can drink enough to make his company tolerable." 

"No, you must stay here. Princess Daenerys is supposed to be making a Westerland Royal Progress. Gods knows why. I hear though that she has blossomed into a beautiful young maiden. Try and win her heart perhaps or comfort one of the less pretty ladies as they are overshadowed though I'm warning you, no bastards."

"She can't be more than twelve or thirteen." Tyrion protested. " Anyway the King would hardly want me as her betrothed." Queen Rhaella had been married at thirteen Jaime remembered suddenly. "Jaime are you listening to me? I was thinking at Highgarden they are holding a pretty big tourney, we could go together? Maybe you could even enter the lists/"

"No." Jaime said firmly. " I'm not going to enter in a tourney for seven's sake. What has gotten into you? Why do you protest every time I go? She needs me." Tyrion snorted.

"What about the Queen? Lady Elia, have you forgotten your promise to her?" Jaime was angry. How dare he use the Queen, the one who he never knew as some kind of emotional blackmail over him?

He made his voice as cold as possible. " When I am dead, you shall have the Rock. You as Lord Lannister can deign to visit who you wish. " Tyrion flinched. " As for the other matter, well . . Perhaps she was wrong or sick, well she was sick, I mean why ask me? The most dishonourable knight in Westeros for this task?" He had to stop, he had veered completely into self-pity. He straightened his shoulders and left.

Later after it had all happened he wondered what Elia would have thought knowing that he actually found her protector through Cersei a woman, though she hid it, he knew she never warmed too.

They were in bed and he was twining her long, golden locks through his fingers. He felt happier than he had been in a long while. It was his first night at Stormsend and Cersei had said how much she had needed him. How much she had missed him.

"We should dress. Oh, stop pulling my hair." Cersei pulled on her dress and reluctantly he dressed too.

"Thank the Gods you are here Jaime. It has been so difficult for me lately." She began talking about her life and Jaime half-listened. He knew she wanted money, he wasn't stupid. Elia thought she had been warning him but she hadn't understood. He couldn't explain their relationship to anyone, not even totally to himself. He knew though that she wasn't using him, she just had no other options. Robert treated he as if she was some common woman. All because she wasn't Lyanna Stark. He spent their gold on feast, melees and whores. And Jaime had gold to spare, what else was he going to spend it on?

". . .and Renly isn't going to that stupid tourney. You think he would take any opportunity to see that friend of his." her voice was full of disgust.

"Does Robert not realise yet?"

"No, did you know he said Joff could learn something from the Knight of Flowers? Can you believe it? He's even smugger than ever, there are rumours his sister will one day be queen. It should be Myrcella. it would unite the realm. Robert's daughter and Rhaegar's son. Renly of course thinks it's amusing. He thinks everything's amusing. Dragging around that beast of a woman."

The last comment surprised him, Renly had never been interested in women. "Who's the beast?"

"Oh, haven't I mentioned it yet? He's got himself some ugly protector." The word made his head snap up.

"Protector?" Jaime had considered a woman for the role. Elia's example Jonquil had been a woman and he understood how a female guard could offer counsel and security in ways a male one couldn't but so far that line of enquiry had been a dead end. Most female fighters came from the North and though Jaime wouldn't completely rule it out he was suspicious of the loyalty a Northern person would offer as for some reason that he couldn't fathom the Starks were very popular there. He would never deliver another supporter for the Stark girl. Never. There was also Dorne but he hadn't had much luck there either. It was hard to tell the true interests and loyalties of people who lived so far away. Elia had loved her brothers but Jaime had never met them. The protector would have access to the princess at all times. He doubted they would try to harm her but what if they wanted to use it for their own ends?

"Like a curiosity from the East?" he asked thoughtfully. That could work, she would have few allies right? She would be loyal. Then he remembered the silken spider and was a little less sure.

"No, she's not from the East. Gods Jaime when would Renly have time to go East? He's too busy trying to irritate me to death. No, she's from Tarth." she sighed at his blank expression." You know that small, backwater island that we rule over. Did you know she's her father's heir. His heir for goodness sake!" There was a badly note of concealed jealousy in her tone but Jaime was too busy trying to fight off the stab of disappointment to notice.

"She is so ugly. Don't pull that face Jaime I mean it, wait until you see her and her manner! It is so odd and awkward. I think she think she's a knight." Cersei paused and tugged at her golden locks thoughtfully. " She might be mad actually, I hadn't considered that. Trust Renly to bring some mad, dangerous woman into my home just for some jape. No, actually I don't think she is mad, just weird."

Jaime forgot all about the beast until he spotted a pair fighting the next day. He recognised Owen Inchfield, someone who was too boring for Jaime to ever take real notice of. His opponent was taller, heavier and far better skilled. In fact he was very skilled, almost graceful. Sword fighting had been a part of Jaime always, ever since he could remember the Warrior had been his chosen god. Then he had been raised to the white cloak, to be the Warrior in the flesh, protecting the royal dynasty and the realm. Why had no one ever asked what would happen if the royals would try and destroy the realm? Jaime supposed that question had finally been asked and he had answered it. He had lost the cloak but not the skill but strangely a lot less people were inclined to fight him. Was victory over the dishonourable Kingslayer really worth the chance of death? His friends before had been few and they were even less now. Who was to say if he even fought fair if he would slit the throat of a defenceless, old man who had entrusted him with his life? Jaime thought that was how Ned Stark had put it anyway. He decided to give this unknown person a try. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't suppress the part of himself that needed a good fight. This person was good, not good enough to beat him of course but they hacked through Inchfield as easy as if he was some sapling.

"Good day, I don't appear to know you, what is your name?" he asked the fighter as Inchfield scurried away, red-faced. The person removed their helm. "Good gods, you're a woman." It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Tyrion had often complained about his inability to not think before he spoke. But to be fair, Jaime thought to himself it really was a shock. He could see why Cersei had nicknamed her the Beast. She was massive, taller than him even. She was also very ugly. Her mismatched features were hidden under fine, light blonde hair that she had hacked short.

"Good day, my lord." She said very stiffly, her face flushed an ugly, blotchy colour.

"No wait. Are you Lord Renly's. . protector?"

"I have the honour." she confirmed, her voice still stiff. Her eyes swivelled, looking for an exit. They were very blue he noticed.

"Not much honour in that." he joked, half-truthfully. Renly was not worth such skill.

"What would you know of honour?" she asked angrily. The flush deepened as she realised what she had just said, to one of the most powerful men in the realm.

"Fight me." he replied.

"My lord. . for/"

"No, don't ask me to forgive you. You meant it. Not so many people would be so brave or so stupid to say it directly to my face. Fight me. You actually have some skill surprisingly. Inchfield isn't worth your time, lets see if you're worth mine."

"Very well." she agreed, realising she had no choice.

So they began. It became more and more enthralling as it went on. Jaime had had the advantage of seeing her fight Inchfield if only for a little while. She parried him blow for blow but he knew she was conserving her strength. _Aaah, you use pride against your opponents, he thought. They'll want this over quickly. I mean for them to loose to a woman, unthinkable! A good strategy but it won't work with me. There are no men like me._ When she realised he wasn't falling into her trap she began to put in more effort. She was good, Jaime confirmed but he was still better. She was quick but he was still quicker. But only slightly and her strength was unexpected, surely he should be stronger? It was much more even than he had first thought and that made it all the better. It had been so long since he had felt so alive. When it was over, he was a little sorry even though he was the triumphant party.

"Well, you better tell me your name." he said as he dusted his clothes. " Come on, a Lady must tell a man her name once they have danced, it is the rules."

"We did not dance." It was hard to tell if she was blushing, her face was already red from exertion.

"Yes we did. Of course we did. Come on, you felt it. It was more than a fight, than a game." he spread out his hands in gesture and she flinched away from him warily though their swords were sheathed. She had been winning against men for a while, Jaime guessed her defeat might have shocked her a little.

"You know you can learn from a defeat too as much as a win." he said cheerfully.

"Don't mock me." she said dully and began to walk away. That annoyed him for some reason, why was she leaving?

"It's true woman, what, don't glare at me? If you won't tell me your name, how should I address you, my lady? You are nobly born aren't you? Yes a lady but you don't act like one. Wench, perhaps? Yes wench. Well you see, wench, when you are defeated, wench, you can actually learn from that experience, wench and well obviously I have never experienced such a loss wen/"

"Brienne. My name is Brienne." She turned to face him. A pretty name for an ugly woman he thought.

"Well Brienne, same time tomorrow?"

"No, what. . why are you doing this?" She backed away from him as if he was infectious. That annoyed Jaime again, why was everyone always trying to get away from him?

"Wench do you wish to fight or not? Or dance I suppose. I'm guessing you don't get asked to do the regular sort of dancing often." Jaime was being cruel he knew. He expected her to shrink, she really was an awkward creature, barely able to look him in the eye. She flushed deeper but instead of shrinking she stood taller.

" Fine."

So they met again the next day in a small, enclosed courtyard that the had used before, away from prying eyes and this time Jaime lost. There had been a ferocity in her attack this time, a personal insult she wished to avenge. It ended with her on top of him and he laughed out loud. She rolled off him and glared at him.

"Same time again tomorrow, wench?"

"You. . you want to do this again?" she asked, a little startled.

"Of course, don't you?" he asked, knowing the answer. They were very different but they had a crucial common interest: a deep, unyielding love for the sword. Jaime didn't care that she was ugly or that she was a she. It was some of the best fighting he had done in years. And she felt the pull of the dance too, he could see it in her eyes.

"Address me correctly. No wench. Ask me to come here."

He grabbed her hand and looked at her mock solemnly. "My Lady, please do me the honour/" she snatched her hand away and stormed off.

But she came back. Again and again they both did. 

Eventually it was remarked upon. However discreet they were it could not remain secret forever. And why should it, they weren't doing anything wrong, were they? Jaime thought. Robert laughed out loud. "Getting old hey Kingslayer? Taking tips from women? Ha ha Renly, you've got some competition. Then again I like a woman with a bit of spirit. None of this prissy, feminine nonsense." Jaime restrained an eye roll. Robert's type was anyone with discernible breasts and he knew he was thinking of his lovely Lyanna who was so bold and brave because she liked riding horses from time to time. Cersei glared at her husband. Brienne was spirited he supposed otherwise she wouldn't be miles away from home wearing armour but her defining trait apart from her fighting skills was her shyness. It wasn't just that she disliked Jaime's conversation though he did say some more things he was sure Tyrion would wince at but as far as he could tell she was awkward with everyone. Jaime's attempts for her to open up were met with an unyielding brick wall, she would dance with him but she wouldn't talk to him. When Renly left for a visit to the Reach, he assured Brienne that she should stay and practice more as it was clear she was improving.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Jaime had asked him later. He didn't really care about the answer but he was curious of the depth of his affection for Brienne. There were three things he knew about her definitely. One she was one of the best fighters he had ever seen and her potential was vast. Two, she was also one of the most awkward people he had ever met and the only thing so far that would surely provoke her into speech was the nickname wench. Three, she was in love with Renly Baratheon. It was unrequited obviously but it still annoyed Jaime how dismissively he said "Oh it's fine. Fighting is her favourite hobby. And it is not as if I shall miss her conversation." He bit back a sharp reply.

Cersei was disbelieving at first. " Why would you want to roll around with that creature? She's so dull and boring."

"I don't want to talk with her, we fight. You wouldn't understand." He hadn't meant to wound her but she flushed angrily. He belatedly remembered when they were children of how she had wanted to learn swordplay too but had been denied on account of her sex.

"Well if you want to waste your time, fine with me." They spoke no more of it and even Robert found the joke a little stale after a while. 

Nearly two moons passed like this until he knew then for sure what she was. What Elia had dreamed of on her deathbed. The day their dance changed forever.


	3. The silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime finally realises he's found the protector.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to GRRM, all mistakes mine. Warnings include mentions of death, incest,traumatic memories and swearing. Also canon typical violence(I think I might change the rating.) I know I've added another chapter plus this one s like the longest thing I've ever written and is probably a meandering mess but it was a good distraction. Truthfully(I don't know how many of you're read my main story) but I'm really going back and forth whether to kill a certain character and how to end it so I wrote this instead. Remember it's Jaime's POV so there might be some negative views on some beloved characters. I've actually had quite a few ideas for little one off POVs including Lyanna, Egg, Rhaenys and Elaena. I am going to try and finish this story or the main one first to prove to myself I am capable of finishing something. As always feedback welcome, I am definitely getting around to answering comments.  
> I'm not a big fan of this chapter but it sets up the meeting in the next and final chapter, with Rhaenys which I've been looking forward too.

It all started with a letter. 

Tyrion had written to him personally for the first time since he had arrived. Jaime supposed it was his way of showing his disapproval. It was a short, very boring one and Jaime felt annoyed with his brother and annoyed with himself. He sighed, once he got back it would all sort itself out a usual, he thought. Part of him longed to go and see him now but another of part of him wished to cling to Stormsend for as long as possible. Casterly Rock meant work, responsibility and legacy. It meant becoming his father. Stormsend meant the Baratheon brother trio, true but it also meant Cersei. Everything seemed to become less significant when it came to her so surely Tyrion could wait another week? Right? And the wench, yes, he hadn't had such a good sparring partner since well. . Dayne perhaps? Jaime was old enough to admit his hero worship of the man had meant he hadn't absorbed as much as he could have. Why don't you try harder his father had asked when he was young, why isn't it going into that head of yours? He could stay another week or so. She needed the help, it wasn't as if Renly or one of his preening cronies would be able to teach her anything. She had given him a large bruise on his shoulder, a gift for his mockery over her reaction to Renly's arrival. The wench had behaved like some lovesick child waiting around for him and hanging on his every word. He had been full of tall tales of bandits and rogues. Really, Jaime had thought , he should have been a singer but she had hung onto every word. It was entertaining but he had been irritated too at her distraction. Her footwork had suffered but all he got was a large purple bruise for his trouble.

"What's that?" Cersei asked him. She had come in and was sat down in front of the mirror, combing her long, golden locks.

"Oh, a letter from Tyrion," he answered. He wondered where she had been, he had been waiting for nearly a hour. He considered that she might be upset. Maybe Robert had done something or Joffery had defied her. Her son, Jaime noticed had started acting out a lot in the last couple of years. "You should have heard what Taena told me. . " Jaime sighed inwardly, he didn't want to hear about Cersei's new friend Taena and all the gossip she somehow acquired. He didn't trust that Myrish woman but when he had said something Cersei had looked injured and asked him who else she was supposed to spend time with? It had made Jaime wonder who she did actually spend her time with when he was away? Better Taena than all the fools who thought themselves in love with her. "Aren't you going to ask about the letter?" he interrupted. His shoulder hurt and he was tired.

Cersei blinked. "From the imp? What has he some life changing news? Finally caught a pox?"

"No. He writes about the visit mostly."

There was a silence. "Well, that's very interesting. As I was saying Taena thinks that Lord Rowan's daughter . . " Jaime didn't hate Taena, there was nothing really to dislike, she was very charming but he hated the way she made him feel sometimes. Like he was on the outside. She was so separate from him but so close to Cersei. It was different.

“He talks about Princess Daenerys a little. He says she is very charming or something.” Jaime interrupted again. He didn’t really know why. He wondered vaguely what Tyrion meant by charming, his brother often mocked courtly language. Cersei looked more bemused than anything, she looked straight into the mirror at him.

“If you don’t want to hear about Rowan’s whore of a daughter all you have to do is say. So the imp has been entertaining her? “ She took the letter. “Yes, it seems like they are having a good time. I’ve been thinking actually about Tyrion/” “He’s taken her exploring in the carverns?” mused Cersei a little doubtfully. “ I suppose it could be worse. She was very. . active when I met her. Always bustling about as if she had very important things to be doing. Visiting this, looking for that. Some found her charming but I think that was more to do with her looks. Very pretty though, with that silvery hair and purple eyes she looks the part, more than. . anyway I did think her fashion taste was a little. . .” Jaime caught the insinuation, Daenerys with her famed Valyrian beauty looked like a real Targaryen, much more than her dark eyed and haired niece. It was a factual statement, there was nothing wrong with it but it left a sour taste in his mouth. “Are you worried he’s behaving badly? Jaime you should really go back and greet her, especially if you’re worried. If you feel like you need to. I understand.”

Jaime looked at her reflection in panic. “No, no I don’t think so. Anyway we should cherish the time we have left right? I’ll stay another week. She’s not that important.” Her reflection smiled at him as rubbed some cream into her cheeks. He had no interest in meeting Daenerys , the silver princess. _He wondered who she would remind him more of : her father or her mother. He wondered which would be worse._

“I just thought perhaps you were growing bored.” She replied carefully, “ all you seem to do is roll around with that beast. Don’t pull that face. Do you know what people are calling you? Beauty and the Beast. It’s horrifying.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “you would think they would come up with something a little more creative than that.” He shuddered.

“Jaime," she insisted, “it’s not a joke. It’s humiliating. Is it really necessary for you to train with her every single day?” Jaime hesitated. He enjoyed it, why shouldn’t he continue? “Jaime. do you really prefer her company to mine?”

" Of course not.” He answered automatically. He looked at her reflection, his own. “We’ll shorten our bouts a little."he compromised. Perhaps Brienne was to Cersei what Taena was to him?

“I think it’s going well the visit anyway,” he hedged to change the subject. “You know I said to Tyrion before I left that he should win her heart or try and console one of her miserable friends.”

Cersei laughed out loud. “As if someone like her would ever even consider it.” She saw his reflection straighten. “Oh come on, even if I think her dress sense is bizarre I cannot deny she is probably the greatest beauty in the realm.” This was the point when Jaime would reassure her, tell her no woman could ever surpass her but he felt a surprising surge of anger. True, deep down he had never expected a betrothal between the two, the King for one would probably rather burn one of his harps than see a Lannister -Targaryen union but she was so dismissive. Was it so insane that someone lovely could love their brother? He was clever and witty and most importantly rich yet the maids buzzed around him like incessant flies despite given no encouragement. She saw his face of dismay. “Jaime don’t be angry. What does it matter anyway? She is a great beauty and has many foolish admirers. Taena has heard a few things and well it’s a scandal in the making.” She said with an undeniable relish. Jaime was sick about hearing of her beauty, all the Mad King’s children had been beautiful, didn’t mean he had to like any of them.

“I know a betrothal between them is unrealistic. The King would never allow such a union. But I think it’s time to seriously start looking for a bride for Tyrion and I was thinking that perhaps you could suggest someone.” He had actually thought of asking the Princess, but surely Cersei had more experience of this kind of thing?

“I don’t think I’m the best person for that task. Unless you had Margaery Tyrell in mind.” She rubbed some powder under her eye. Jaime rolled his eyes at the mention of her rival.

“This is serious Cersei, I mean one day she will be Lady of the Rock.” She froze.

“What do you mean?” she asked slowly, placing her powders on her dressing table.

“What do you mean, what do you mean?” he parroted back, confused. He was still thinking about his last conversation with Tyrion.

“The imp . . his wife, she won’t be Lady of The Rock. “

“Yes, she will.” Jaime had an epiphany: Cersei loved the Rock, she saw herself as its mistress.” Come on Cersei, you will always be a lioness but the Rock needs a mistress.”

“You’re giving the Rock to the imp? You. . what about your children?” The sudden change in topic threw him off. His first thought was, what children? He had always been completely faithful to her. “Jaime, you promised me. You said after Tommen was born how he looked like father and all the gifts.. .the Lannister legacy he is your son.” She stood up and faced him, her face a picture of bewilderment. “You would disinherit poor, sweet Tommen for him, for the imp.”

“Stop calling him that , I know you don’t mean it affectionately.” Jaime said back as he was at quite a loss at what to say.

“Stop calling him that. “she mocked back, putting her hands on her hips. “How can you just sit there? That monster is stealing from mine, no our son? What would father say?”

“Well we could ask his skull. Father would roll in his grave if he thought the Rock would go to a/”

“A Lannister. A true, golden, whole Lannister.” Cersei seized on his hesitation. She took his hand but he let it fall. He had been about to say bastard and she knew it. He could see the fury simmering in her eyes. Truthfully he didn’t think of Tommen as his bastard. He didn’t really think of Tommen as his at all. They were Robert’s, all three of them. He remembered being with Cersei at Joffery’s birth. It was along, tortuous process and at he end there was pink, scrawny thing. A baby. She had clutched him close, her face softened with maternal love. Jaime felt no instant connection and a part of him had been relieved when she had insisted that he show him no special attention. It was to keep them safe and it had worked. Now after all these years she expected him to have formed some sacred bond with them?

“Tyrion is whole. He is my heir. You know I cannot disinherit him. What would he do?" 

“The citadel. The whores of Oldtown would be glad of his custom. Give him a plot of land or gold or whatever.” She pressed herself close to him and cupped his cheek. This is when their anger words would transform into kisses. Tyrion might like the chain, her voice in his head said and Tommen is a sweet boy. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her a little away. “No. Don’t get me wrong I will support Tommen, gold maybe even some land but I can’t give him the rock , it’s his. He is Tywin’s son.”

She scoffed, her eyes hardened into cool, green agate. “A monster. You promised the Rock to the imp? Over your own son? What is your obsession with ugly freaks? You were never fit to rule the Rock. It should have been mine. It should be Joffery’s too but he gets this ugly monstrosity instead. Brandon the Builder must have been bloody blind to have built this. How can you do this to me? You promised you would take care of them."

“Don’t talk about Brienne and Tyrion that way. I’m sorry you got the wrong impression but I won’t change my mind.”

“Jaime,” she took another step towards him, pleading, the soft light playing over her features,” please, listen to me. I’m sorry, I know they’re special to you but you have to listen to me.” He took a step back, instinctively without thinking about it.

“No,” he said firmly. “No.” There was an uncomfortable silence that was broken by a knock.

“Come in,” Cersei ordered at the same time he shouted “go away.” A timid maid entered. She shot them both a nervous look before deeply curtseying. “My Lady, the Master at Arms Cortnay Penrose begs an audience with you despite the hour. He is unable to locate your Lord husband.”

“Send him in." Cersei commanded. Penrose, a tall, bald man with a red beard arrived and bowed. “My Lady, I beg your pardon. Do you know where your husband is? There has been urgent news.”

“Tell me.” Cersei ordered. “ Now.” Her eyes gleamed liked wildfire when he wasn’t forthcoming.

“The bandits my lady. They took the honourable Lady Allyria Dayne hostage and demanded a ransom from her betrothed Lord Dondarrion.”

“I know all this.”

“Yes but the ransom did not go to plan, Lord Dondarrion, it seems he insisted on meeting the leader alone. Well to cut a story short he too has been taken. It is my advice that Stormsend must answer. It is our woods that these thieves and rascals have been allowed to roam, they have officially crossed from the crownlands border to ours.We must answer this outrage. Poor Lady Dayne. I must speak with Lord Robert, a party must be-“

“You are saying must an awful lot. Where’s Stannis, go find him and bring him here. Go to that criminal’s chambers first. It’s more likely he’s there than with his wife. “ The maid scurried off. “Ser, I understand your need for my husband but as usual he’s indisposed but do not worry I have come up with a solution.” Jaime didn’t like the sound of that. Stannis arrived with his plain, quiet knight that was always hanging around.

“I warned Robert.” He began without preamble.” I said this needed to be dealt with as soon as they established base of operation. Criminal behaviour patterns dictate-“

“Do not worry, my brother has volunteered to lead a small but skilled party to rescue the fair maiden. “ She was mocking him and his old dreams of knighthood and glory. “Ooh you can even take that friend of yours. I know how you enjoy the company of certain kinds of people.”

“You mean the Lady Brienne? He can’t go off with a noble maiden into bandit ridden woods!” Stannis blustered.

“There will be knights with them the whole time, in fact why doesn't your friend serve as chaperone. Ser?”

“Davos.” He supplied helpfully.

“Yes Ser Davos can go to. Oh it’ll be just like a song!” She clapped her hands together like an excited young girl “You cannot deny me this.” She laughed so sweetly. She’s right, Jaime thought, none of us can deny her this. Ser Cortnay still looked a little surprised, knowing full well Jaime had never volunteered but obedience was strong in him. A vein throbbed at the side of Stannis’ head. He could hear the grinding from here. All four bowed at her and left her, sat back down again, smiling at her reflection.

Jaime hoped she might have changed her mind but the next day, a few hours later she was still simmering. She had come to see them all off in the courtyard. She graciously thanked them all but her eyes were cold. When he went up to her, she handed him a white handkerchief, delicately embossed with gold. “A favour to grant you good fortune, dear brother."She smiled at him with no warmth.

“Thank you sweet sister.” As he took it, he grabbed her hand in one last effort to win her over but she snatched it away. “I will return with the noble Lady.” He announced loudly and instantly regretted it, the girl was probably dead already. He could feel Brienne’s big, blue eyes boring into his back. She was stood closest and had been watching the exchange. A few weeks ago she had caught them embracing. It could be written off as an affectionate hug between brother and sister but Jaime somehow knew she was suspicious. She never mentioned it but he saw questions in her eyes. Or maybe he was just paranoid. He hoped it was the latter.

At least Robert wasn’t there to see us off, he thought moodily or worse he could be here riding beside me. The Storm Lord’s activities last night still left him in a zombie like sleep, the state his wife preferred him in. He would laugh about missing out on this quest after, Jaime suspected but the childish pride in him would be hurt. Robert had more pride than the North had snow. He would have insisted on taking charge and being generally insufferable. Not that the company was much better. Cersei had seen it fit to gift him five knights not including Stannis’ friend and the wench despite Penrose’s protests that they needed a bigger party. One of them was Inchfield, he doubted it was a coincidence. The wench had rode beside him for a while, he had felt her gaze on him a few times. Probably wondering why he wasn’t chattering away at her. “Ser Jaime?” she asked. She sounded worried. He ignored her. She sighed and rode off to join Stannis’ lackey. He would show them all, he thought sourly, Robert, Stannis, Perose and especially Cersei . . . That night after the knights had clustered around the campfire and were swigging wine in contentment Brienne approached him warily. They hadn’t spoken before they had left. She had been too busy listening to all of Renly’s moronic tales, he had even seen her take notes as if Renly was some kind of expert in banditry. “Do you wish to spar, Ser Jaime?” He felt a pathetic surge of happiness. Being in this party again reinforced how much common men still disliked him, reminded him why he stayed behind Casterly Rock’s gilded doors. “Sure."he replied as nonchalantly as possible.

They went off to the riverside, a while away for privacy and began. The swords clanging was the only noise to be heard apart from the rush of the river.

“Oh you can even ruin silence, it drives me crazy.” Brienne burst out unexpectedly.

“Ruin silence? I didn’t know that was possible.” He asked amused.

“You know what I mean. What’s wrong with you?” The question wrong footed him. Rarely did people ask about his wellbeing with sincerity. She used his shock to press an attack.

“What . . about . . Inchfield?” he grunted as he fought it off. He had caught her off guard and her attack faltered. “Why do you hate him?”

“I don’t.” She said shortly.

“Liar.”

“You know what, I’ve changed my mind. I prefer the silence.” She pressed forward and he ended up being backed up against a tree.

“Oh yes, this silence for all the profound thinking and special harp music wench.” He said sarcastically.

“My name is Brienne.”

“They should etch that on your tombstone, you say it a thousand times a day.”

“Only because you call me wench ten thousand times a day.” They were standing very close and he waited for her to land the killing blow when her blazing blue eyes noticed something to the side of them. Stannis’ knight was standing there watching them.

“Ser Davros, can you leave us alone please? We are just finishing our first bout.”

“It’s Davos.” The wench snapped and moved away. That annoyed him, it made him fell like they were doing something wrong.

Davos cleared his throat. “My apologies but Lord Stannis ordered me to take care of the lady.”

“ The wench is perfectly capable of defending herself. I’d bet all the gold in Casterly Rock she can do a better job than you can. She’ll only have a few bruises from my imminent victory.” He grinned at her but she blushed and moved further away.

“My lord, it is my duty to-“

“I am the commanding officer and it’s our custom to spar alone.” The man still didn’t leave. Jaime’s irritation grew.

“It’s alright. Ser Davos is right. It’s inappropriate for people of our birth and sex to spend long amounts of unsupervised time together. I think we’ve had enough for today. Shall we go back to the camp Ser Davos.” She said quite formally, not looking at him. They walked off after Ser Davos shot him an apologetic look that Jaime decided to ignore. His pettiness didn’t stop the loneliness creeping over him after they left though.

_That night he dreamt he was running through the Rock, down a long corridor. Behind the doors lay weird specific memories. There was learning how to read. There was learning how to spar. There was playing tag with Addam. There was that time Cersei’s freckly friend tried to kiss him. Mara? No Melara. He was looking for Cersei. But she wasn’t there. In the mirrors he would catch a quick glimpse, an echo of a playful laugh and then she was gone. There was Tyrion, his heart leapt a little, he would recognise that golden monstrosity of a cradle anywhere. It was supposed to be for his children too but he had given that up. All for her. Did I ask you to do that? Her voice rang out angrily and he went eagerly into the room. Two people stood over the cradle where a baby Tyrion was mewling but neither were golden-haired. “What are you dong?” A girl who looked like Rhaenys looked back at him, puzzled. “You promised to show us.” It was Elia's voice. She had come here when she was a child he dimly remembered but it wasn’t like this. This was a voice of the woman she grew up to be and had she ever met Tyrion? “Elia?” he asked uncertainly._

_“So this is it, the monster?” The boy sounded distinctly unimpressed._

_“Don’t you remember what I told you Jaime. About looking? About really seeing?” The girl asked in Elia’s voice. “Come and see the monster of Casterly Rock.” She pointed at the cradle. He didn’t want to see. Monster. Imp. Kingslayer. Cersei’s voice echoed around him. Brienne the beauty. “I don’t want to, I don’t want to.” That was his last thought before he woke up._

The next day he rode beside Brienne and Davos slightly unsettled by his dream. “What a lovely morning. You know this is my favourite kind of morning, so bright and clear. What’s your favourite type of morning? Davros?” Jaime had decided from now on to refer to him that way as an act of defiance over Stannis’ stupid suspicions.

“His name is Davos.” The wench corrected,” And no one has a favourite type of morning.”

“Of course they do.” He countered. “Like a favourite rain. I like a good thunderstorm rain, it’s very dramatic. What about you?”

“I like a nice misty morning, with dew on the grass.” Davos offered.

“Helpful for smuggling?” he asked. Brienne glared at him.

“Thunderstorms too.” The knight replied mildly with a smile on his face. Damn it, Jaime thought, I actually quite like him. It kind of meant his evil scheme which he hadn’t really developed past stage one of calling him by the wrong name would be harder to implement. “I like rain in the wind. Just gentle drops.” Brienne said quietly.

“Like by the sea. Tell me about Tarth.” She looked at him suspiciously.

“Tell me about Casterly Rock.” She challenged back.

“Wench, I asked first.” He protested.

“Ser Davos shall we refuse to speak to Ser Jaime if he refuses to call us by our name?” Brienne suggested, the onion knight looked a little uncomfortable. Jaime smirked, she underestimated his talent for mindless chatter.

“Wench what do you think of this . . .”

“Tell me is it easier to smuggle . . .”

“I had a strange dream the other night where I was eating apple pie, but then I realised I was apple pie, it was a real mindblower. . .”

“Please don’t tell us about any more of our dreams my Lord.” The knight almost begged. The wench glared at him, bristling in her defeat.

“I miss the childish silence.” She complained.

“You never did explain about those silences.”

“You made a joke about harp music remember?” Her look confirmed she understood the reference.

“Oh I understand what you mean My Lady.” said Ser Davos,” There was a moment after I proposed to Marya at night and all the stars were out, it was very lovely.”

“Is Marya your wife?” Jaime asked, not particularly interested. The wench was staring straight ahead expressionless.

“Yes, she’s the best woman in the world.” It was the way he said it. Simply, mildly and without pretension. Jaime felt an unexpected stab of envy of this plain, lowly knight whose closest companion was Stannis Baratheon for seven’s sake.

“Do you have children?” he asked trying to ignore his train of thought. They both stared at him.

“Ser Davos has seven sons. His eldest Ser Dale is riding with us Ser Jaime.” Her pointed tone made it clear he should really have already known that. The knight smiled at him not looking offended and rode back to join the son in question.

“Aaah I see the resemblance now." He didn’t.

“Why aren’t you taking this seriously? How can you not know who is in your own party? This quest is important. Lady Allyria and Lord Beric are depending upon us.” She looked upset.

“Your first venture into knightly valour not what you thought it would be?” She really was strange, like Cersei had said, it was almost as if she thought she was a knight . .

“They are counting on us Ser Jaime. You have to take this seriously. It’s your duty.” It was at times like this was when she reminded him of Ned Stark. All the solemn talk of duty and inability to have fun. Ned Stark with prettier eyes. “I know you are upset with your sister. I . . I am an only child so I’m no expert in sibling relationships but you cannot let it distract you and . . don’t take it out on us.” She was flushing and staring straight ahead so she didn’t have to look at him.

“I’m sorry." Jaime said. And he was. It wasn’t any of their fault that Cersei had forced him out of the confines of the Rock and her bedchamber. She gave an abrupt nod in acknowledgement of his apology. He had to smile. It was just so Brienne.

That night he sat with Ser Davos, his son and the wench. He looked into the fire depths. Across the camp Inchfield bragged with his friend. Brienne still didn’t look at the knight. It itched in the back of his mind. “Yes we’re not sure yet,” Ser Dale was saying, “ we’ve been waiting a long time for this.” He noticed that Jaime was listening and flushed a little. He was uncomfortable, they all were a little. It wasn’t just that he was the commanding officer but because of who he was. This is why he stayed inside. “Maybe Marya after my mother. When I offered though she said that was a waste, that we should name our first child after someone great. Like Aegon or Alysanne.”

“Alysanne is a beautiful name." The wench offered, smiling at him. He smiled back at her but Jaime could tell how nervous he was. But he was also excited, the prospective father.

“Yes, I suppose we could name her after a Queen.” Maybe Lyanna Jaime thought bitterly, the Queen of Love and Beauty. Talk turned to the mission. 

“Apparently Lord Bryce Caron wanted to go with him but the ransom insisted on minimal men or the Lady would die.” Dale commented.

“Caron?” Jaime frowned trying to remember if he met with him. “A brave man." Ser Davos assured him.

“Have you fought him?” he asked the wench.

“Who?” asked Inchfield, as he was passing, coming back after relieving himself.

“Lord Caron.” Ser Davos said patiently.

“Weren’t you supposed to marry him?” the knight interrupted again. Jaime glared at this knight, he really had to give it to Cersei , she knew how to pick the insufferable.

“No, his brother was my first betrothal.” Brienne replied steadily her face empty of expression. Jaime was surprised. Very surprised, she had never mentioned a betrothal.

“Your first one?” Ser Dale asked curiously.

“Dale.” Ser Davos scolded him, “Forgive him my lady for his impertinent question.” At another time it would have made Jaime smile at Davos’ attempt to curtail his and his sons more “common" behaviours but he was distracted.

“How many betrothals have you had?” he asked her bluntly.

She flushed him but raised her chin defiantly. “Three.” He waited, see if she wold blush blotchily and excuse herself. If she would fold. If the shyness would win over the stubbornness. “Lord Bryce’s brother was first, Ronnet Connington was second and my father’s castellan was third.”

“You seem to have many romantic misfortunes." Inchfield commented. Everyone glared at him and his smug tone.

“Inchfield go and dig a latrine.” Jaime ordered not looking at him. The knight swept off.

There was an awkward silence. Brienne sighed and answered Dale’s curious look. “ The first died of a chill, the second is a swaggering drunk and I gave the last one a few broken bones."

“You attacked your betrothed?” Jaime was suppressing a laugh.

“No," her eyes blazed in indignation,"it was a fair fight, he said, he said I had to give up the sword.” She wrapped a hand around it as if her scorned suitor would charge out of the trees and try and take it from her.

“So you challenged him?” Jaime couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing.

Brienne glared at him angrily. “Do not m/”

“Do not mock me.” He beat her to it, “I’m not, was he very angry? Please tell me it was in front of everyone.”

She stared at him in loss. “It was in front of the castle’s residents. He wanted my chastisement to be public . . why are you laughing? It’s not funny.”

“Isn’t it? Wow if only I could have challenged someone to a fight to get out of marriage. How old were you?"

“Sixteen, he was sixty.” He laughed harder. He could picture her , the awkward young maiden against the old man probably at first unbearably smug at his guaranteed victory. Then his downfall in front of all the residents, even the lowliest of servants seeing him beaten by a girl while Brienne had probably blushed and not enjoyed her victory at all. He saw her fight a smile and then she gave up and began laughing with him.

Time passed as they made their way to the Wendwater River where a village and according to Renly and Stannis an inn was the base of the notorious bandits. Jaime began to enjoy himself, apart from Inchfield the men were sound enough and he realised how much he had missed this feeling. Cersei and Tyrion even would laugh a little but it really felt heroic. Rescue the lovely maid and her noble husband. What was more knightly than that? They sang songs, hunted and rode together but every evening the wench and him would dance. He didn’t call it that in front of the onion knight, something about the slightly apologetic expression he made when he got up to follow them made him uneasy. Sometimes they would invite him to join in for a bout, or his son to vary their opponents but neither of them were particularly talented. It wasn’t the same. The onion knight clearly took Stannis’ word very seriously and obeyed his orders. Jaime still got to talk and spar with her but he couldn’t be truly alone with her.

One day as they neared the tavern during a sparring session Jaime spotted smoke. He, the wench and Ser Davos went to check it out. The quest took a different turn when they came upon a party in a glade. Four men had made a camp, one was passed out cold, another dozing. The other two were drinking and laughing with a brown haired girl on one of their laps. The fight, with the surprise advantage on their side was swift and brutal. Jaime fought side by side with the wench and to his delight saved her life. She was trying to get the girl to safety when one of the men who had been fighting Davos unexpectedly leapt at her. She would have probably survived the blow but even she had to concede that without his help she would have been in trouble. “Thank you." Her voice was stiff but he could see the genuine gratitude in her eyes. They left one of them alive for questioning and bought him back to the main camp. He was a thin, gawky lad who had been dozing. Jaime guessed he hadn’t seen sixteen summers. The other knights were annoyed they hadn’t had their share of the glory but they were eager about the spoils. “Oh she’s not very pretty.” Inchfield complained, gesturing at the girl who had clung to Brienne’s side like a pale, non descript weed.

“She’s not a spoil of battle.” Warned the wench, "You will not touch her."

“Who put you in charge? Wenching is part of knightly life.” Inchfield retorted. “Seeing as you didn’t bring back anything else of value.”

“There’s some gold and wine if you want to fetch more of it.” Jaime answered, “as for the girl, clearly the wench has claimed her as a spoil, it is her right as she actually did participate in the fight.” Wenching was a part of such things but in those cases the girls were willing. She looked young and terrified, hiding her plain, freckled face behind curtains of tangled, mud coloured hair. Inchfield flushed but he said nothing. Perhaps he remembered the last time he was in a fight with Brienne.

He sat the lad down. ”I am Lord Jaime Lannister. I have some questions about bandits that have invaded this wood. Are you part of them?” The boys eyes widened at his name.

“The Kingslayer?” he asked, gawping. Jaime clenched his jaw. The girl too gasped and shrank back. “Don’t worry he won’t hurt you.” He heard Brienne whisper to her. She sounded so sure and sincere and he felt a little better.

“Are you in league with the bandits?”

“No. . no, no, My Lord.” The boy stuttered.

“Liar.” The girl declared, ”He is My Lord, all four of them were.”

“Were, were, Rorge he , he kicked us out. He said we were good for nothing. I, I didn’t want to join, they took over the village, turned the tavern into their . .their place. Anyone who defied them was killed or worse.”

“So you took part in the robberies?”

“I had too.I-“

“What of the abduction of Lady Allyria Dayne?” The boy was silent.

Davos cleared his throat. "I found this on his person, My Lord.” The dangling pendant caught the sunlight and for a second time froze. “It is the sigil of House Dayne.” I know, thought Jaime, I have seen it before.

_It was a large, round, silver pendant with a violet stone inset in it to represent the falling star. “Do you like it?" Elia had asked, "I know it is a little plain but I would thought it would be nice if they matched in style a little.”_

_“I love it, Your Grace you shouldn’t have.” Ashara had hugged her, spinning her around, their dark hair flying._

_“Don’t be silly. One day you can give it to Elaena as I will give mine to Rhaenys. They shall be as close as we are. One day we will give them to them together.”_

“Well," he asked the boy coldly. The boy’s face hardened.

“I didn’t want to. Rorge never said nothing about no girl. She wouldn’t stop screaming.” Jaime waited. “I didn’t know she was some Dornish Lord’s daughter, I didn’t and it wasn't like she would be needing it in the cellars anyway.” Jaime stepped towards him. “You can’t judge me. You can’t. You’re, you’re a murderer, a kingslayer, I, I told you what you wanted.Who are you to judge me? A man without honour.”

“Calm down." Jaime snapped.” I’m not going to kill you, you’ll await trial in Stormsend. Lord Robert will decide your fate. But I will take your hand, you are a thief."

“It’s my mother’s, she’s a Dayne.” He blustered.

“Liar, I saw it made, I know who its true owner is.”

“It’s my word against yours.”

“That you’re secretly related to the Dayne’s?” Jaime replied scornfully.

“You are not, you’re the drapers nephew."The girl declared. “You were one of the first to join, you held me down while they. . you helped keep the Lady in captivity. They’re keeping her and the lightning lord in the cellars my Lord.”

The boy spat at her. “ Shut your fucking mouth. I want a trial by combat.” He said suddenly,” you have to let me go then, no noose or anything? A singer told me of it.” There was silence. “I demand it.”

“It’s just a hand.” Jaime said honestly, ”The Lord Robert is a just man, he might not take your life.” Robert would doubtfully be presiding over the trial, it would more likely be Cersei or even more probably Stannis. The outcome Jaime knew would be the same no matter which of them it would be.

"I demand it." the boy insisted. Perhaps he had heard of the Storm Lady’s and the Storm’ brother’s justice.

“There’s always the watch.” Jaime offered. One last chance.

"I demand trial by combat. Kill me with your sword if you can. The same one you killed the King with.”

_It’s what Jaime would have chosen, what he had tried to choose all those years ago. “Let me clear my name by the sword Your Grace.2 he aske Queen Elia,”Let Ned Stark pick some champion or beter himself. I’ll wipe that superior expression of his face in seconds and then/”_

_“the situation will be a million times worse,” she snapped. She massaged her forehead, she looked to Jaime’s concern more tired than usual, she looked wan. “I’m sorry I snapped. It’s just what do you think will happen, really Jaime what will actually happen if you win? And yes I said if, no one can predict the future but yes let’s say you win, the truth is. . .” she took a deep breathe._

_“It doesn’t matter." He said quietly and subdued. She didn’t have to finish that sentence, her dark eyes, shining with compassion said it all. It didn’t matter who he fought, the whispers would follow him forever. He couldn’t fix it with a fight._

The fight was over within a minute. It was quick and clean. The boy gargled a little on his own blood. Jaime didn’t tell him the sword he used wasn’t the one that had tasted the blood of the dragon, that one was suspended on his wall in Casterly Rock. He was strangely devoid of anger, for once the name didn’t provoke anger or an impetuous decision. The boy slumped on the ground, his blood spreading out around him, running over the crinkly leaves. The girl regarded them all fearfully. It was only the wench she would sit comfortably with. “Get as much information as you can out of her.”

“My Lord, what the boy said/”

"It doesn’t matter.” He said shortly, “ Just talk to the girl, sharply if needs be. We need as much information as possible before we attack.”

“I don’t think we should alienate her, we should give her some time/”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” He told her shortly. She stalked off angrily and he grinned at her retreating figure. “She’ll put in twice more effort now to do it her way.” He said in way of explanation to a slightly confused looking Davos. "I mean I’ll never tell her this but I think her strategy is good. Her ideas often are. We should win the smallfolk on our side.” That is what Ser Arthur had done in their fight against the Kingswood Brotherhood. That felt so long ago strangely now he was in the trees again, chasing criminals. Ser Davos was staring at him a little incredulous. “Why won’t you just tell her that, My Lord?” Ser Davos asked then look like he immediately regretted doing so.

“Oh, it would ruin our whole dynamic.” Jaime replied cheerfully. Ser Davos expression strangely reminded him of the Queen. "The necklace," he held out his hand and Ser Davos complied. Jaime didn’t see him shake his head as he walked away, he was busy studying the pendant. The ruffian’s grimy fingers couldn’t hide the mastery of the craftmanship. It was like seeing something of another time. The boys blood smeared the bright winking jewel.

There was great celebration that night, the wine was shared around freely as well as the gold. Nothing like a bit of gold to boost morale. The wench of course refused to drink, the mission wouldn’t be over for her until the Beric and his lovely bride were back where they belonged. The general toasts were made. “To the King and Queen. May they live long and prosper.”

“To the Queen.” Jaime toasted, may she rest in peace he added in his mind. He stared into the flames, the reds, oranges and yellows and smiled a little. He could feel the wench’s eyes on him. She turned back around to Alys, short for Alysanne to make sure she was comfortable. The small girl clung to her, looking up at her in a strange mixture of awe, respect and something else Jaime couldn’t detect. “You saved me," she had kept saying earlier,"you came straight for me.”

"It’s our duty to protect the innocent first." he had heard her reply. Something about them, the way Alys was looking up at her stirred something on the edge of his consciousness. He was staring he realised and felt himself flush when he noticed Ser Davos was watching him. The fire was suddenly very hot. Why was he sitting so close anyway? He went to go and sit on the outskirts of the camp with a wineskin, his back against a large tree. The other knights began a complicated dice game, slurring their words in victory. The wench was putting the girl to bed in an almost maternal gesture.

Jaime didn’t know how much time passed but he heard her soft approach before he saw her. “Wench." he greeted her.

“That’s a nice necklace.” She said casually. He was immediately suspicious, she was never casual but the necklace glowed between them, like a memento of a happier time.

“I saw her give it to her, it seems like yesterday but it’s not is it. It’s been years.” He said softly, turning over the pendant in his hand.

“You mean Queen Elia right?”

"Yes, why are you asking?”

“No reason." She was a truly atrocious liar. “You would never survive in King’s Landing.” He promised her. She blinked, clearly not following hi train of thought, “ You can’t lie. Well you can a little, but not to me, I know you to well.” Jaime surprised himself by saying that part out loud, I must stop drinking he thought.

“Lying is not an admirable skill, my father always taught me that only in truth can you act freely. Kings Landing is the centre of Westeros it shouldn’t be shrouded in mistruth.”

“It shouldn’t but it is. It will make you want to crawl into a little hole and die that place.”

“Still one should always try to be as honest and straightforward as possible." she protested. She even argues with me when I’m drunk he thought groggily.

“Really? Honest hey? Tell me what have you heard about me?” There was a silence. ” About the King? No, that one’s a little uncomfortable isn’t it? What about the Silver prince, no King, he is King now. It’s weird, I always think of him as a prince like deep down when I think of King, I think, I think, well I think of Aerys. Do you know what I mean.” He swore the air dropped a few degrees in temperature. “Aerys, blood of the Dragon he was, yet,” he leaned closer, he could barely see her in the moonlight, "his blood ran as red as that peasant boy today. Funny that hey?”

She leant back and he saw the flash of horror. Part of him considered telling her. “Yes Aerys, how much truth have you heard about him? And the others? So many rumours, that Aerys isn’t really dead That it was all a big conspiracy? That Rhaegar put me up to it? That I did it for Rober? That I did it for power? Power? I never wanted power! That Aerys was going to tear the lovers asunder and I was so moved by their I killed him, I heard that one, I mean come one. Burnt them to asunder is more accurate. As if I would do it for the Silver Prince and his Stark girl. That I did it for Elia, that we were going to rule the Seven Kingdoms together? Have you heard that one, oh you have.” He saw her clench her hands and get up to move away. This was the first time they had been truly alone since the first night, he grabbed her hand. He was suddenly very angry, his head was foggy, his body sore. She has heard that one, the one where had Elia whispered in his ear and he went like a good, little brainless knight and did the deed for her." Because I loved her." A more romantic motivation than power he thought but it made his blood boil. _It wasn’t real love just some made up affair, no –one cared what she had really meant to him, no-one understood_. “You know after it happened, everyone just. . they all took a step back. It’s hard to explain, I wasn’t Jaime anymore, I was that act, that’s all I was. It could be a little step or a wide fucking berth but I felt it. But she. . she stepped forward or she didn’t move I don’t know. She looked at me the same. She saved me, defended me to the King so yes I loved her. She was my friend. I protected her and she protected me, there’s no conspiracy or some torrid love affair, that’s just . . . she deserves better than that. Seven Hells even I deserve better than that.”

There was a painful silence while she looked at him wordlessly. “Why did you do it?” she asked her voice hoarse, she looked at the necklace, tangled in their hands. He opened his mouth.

“My Lord,” came the voice of the onion knight. Jaime wanted to kill him.

“Look we’re not fucking or kicking each other’s head in, can you leave us alone for five fucking minutes?”

“Jaime.” Brienne admonished. She had taken her hand away and was staring at the pendant. His hand felt cold. “Ser Davos, have you been drinking?”

“My Lady only a little.”

“Me too.” Jaime added.

“It’s been strengthened, look at Inchfield, he’s practically passed out.” Brienne’s voice had a note of panic in it. Jaime didn’t see the big deal but he yelled at them to stop drinking anyway. He suddenly wanted them to all go away, the moment had passed. “Jaime," her voice was urgent, “that necklace, you say you saw it before, was it the. . did it have something to do with the Queen?” Jaime nodded, he wanted her to leave. "It’s beautiful, why would Rorge let some wastrels take it, it must be expensive?”

“Perhaps they stole it.” Ser Davos suggested patting water into his face.

“No, the boy said he gave them a few trinkets and the wine and told them to get out." A picture was beginning to form in Jaime’s mind.

” Tell the men to prepare, it’s a trap, it’s a bloody trap.”

It was too late.

They came bursting through the trees. Jaime’s men tried their best but they were still scrambling, a little tipsy. Even inebriated he still took down four men, his men some more but none more than the wench. She was like a machine, fully sober, whirling and hacking through them. Until Rorge arrived, he was as ugly as sin with no nose but his mouth was twisted in triumph. “Well do you have my ransom?” Jaime charged at him but a man knocked at his neck from behind.

“You cannot, have you no honour?” the wench demanded hotly. Jaime wanted to laugh but his head flared with pain. Something shifted as he lay on the ground watching her, holding her fine sword aloft. Inchfield was dead he could see dimly and two other bodies. The fight was over yet here she stood. A knight. It was so blindingly obvious. She’s a knight. He saw her face crease with dismay as someone shoved a sword point on his back. “Don’t hurt him.” She said.

“Gods you’re a woman, a freakishly ugly one at that. Is this your camp follower Lannister?” Jaime struggled slightly and slumped.

“She is a highborn lady." Davos corrected him from somewhere.

“Yes," Jaime corroborated “ the heir to Tarth.” And a knight.

“Well bitch put the sword down or I’ll . .” he grabbed Alys ”slit her throat.” Jaime could see the girl struggling. She knew, he thought, she knew it was a trap and she said nothing. “I’m sorry, they made me” the girl wept. Rorge snarled and pressed a knife to her throat. Brienne swallowed and as he knew she would, lowered her sword. “It’s ok," she told Alys,”I understand.” _It was in that moment, watching her comfort the girl that he knew. A soft voice in his head chided him for not seeing it earlier, it was so obvious, he knew what she was, what he had been looking for . . his last thought was of smiling dark eyes at a promise kept._

They bound him and the wench together for the next two days of riding until they reached the inn. It had been a nice place once Jaime guessed but the bandits had clearly enjoyed destroying something that took a generations to establish. The villagers cowered at their approach but he saw a few look heartened about how few of the monsters had returned. Rorge had perhaps ten men left and they were of doubtful loyalty. Jaime was feeling surprisingly positive. Sure they had been captured, his mission was a failure but with the promise of Lannister gold he reckoned he was entitled to a good ransom. Cersei would pay. Would she? Yes, she would, even if only for show, if not Tyrion definitely would. The others too. What did it matter when he had finally found the protector?

They were stashed in the cell together, the lovers Rorge chuckled. “I’m so sorry Jaime.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I should have-“

“Brienne, you couldn’t have done anymore, I should have realised it was a trap. I was so caught up in what the necklace reminded me of that I didn’t consider the possibility that it was bait. Don’t worry someone will pay the ransom for you and me too.”

“The golden lion of Casterly Rock and his camp follower?” Brienne said wryly referring to Rorge’s numerous jokes.”My father he will be so worried.” 

“You’re not a camp follower, I know exactly who you are.” The odd comment made her look at him straight in the eye.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m wonderful, I’ve been searching for you for years.” She shrank back a little.

“Jaime I think you hit your head/”

“I hit the top of my back anyway I've found you, I’d almost given up hope. Elia told me I do that you know, look without really seeing. I was looking at you but I didn’t really see.” Brienne looked lost so Jaime started over realising he probably sounded a bit mad. “Elia, the Queen she was like my lady, does that make sense? Like from one of the songs. A knight and his lady? Well she asked me to do something on her deathbed, a special task.” Brienne looked a little intrigued. Jaime smiled at her encouragingly. “She was worried about her daughter.”

“The Princess Rhaenys?” asked Brienne a little awe in her voice.

“Yes, she’s a correspondent of mine actually," he bragged, “what have you heard of her?”

“In Tarth they say she is beautiful and kind. The Lady of the Realm.”

“Well, Elia wanted someone that would protect her from all forms of harm.” He waited until realisation dawned on her face.

“Me?” she asked incredulous. “I’m not fit to guard a princess, I, and what about Renly?”

Jaime blinked. “What about him, Rhaenys is a much worthier charge.” He promised her.

“You don’t get to decide that, I swore him my sword/”

“He’ll let you go, you know he will, he’ll get bored of you eventually.” It was out of Jaime’s mouth before he could stop it. He saw the hurt even in the darkened room and the resignation too because she knew it was true, he knew that but it didn’t mean she would thank him for it. She turned away, her face set. There was no way to work out all this aggression handcuffed to a wall, they couldn’t fight, they couldn’t dance. What felt like days passed as he tried to needle word out of her but to no avail.

“Please, don’t judge the cause on me .I’m just the message bearer. It’s Elia you would be honouring, she bought peace to the realm, doesn’t she deserve to rest easily knowing her daughter’s safe? I found her, crawled underneath her father’s bed when my father attacked. You know who was with her, the princess of the seven kingdoms, a cat! That’s it. A cat.” There was more silence.

When the door opened Jaime didn’t stir, he thought it was just the food. “Alys.” Whispered the wench. Jaime’s head snapped up. The girls dress was even more torn and her face had several bruises on it but her eyes were determined.

“Aaah where’s your bandit friends?” he drawled. Brienne kicked him.

“I’ve come to rescue you. You, he said . . .he said I was nothing, that no one would care for me but you saved me. I stole his keys while he was sleeping and my friend drugged the guard, lets go.” She unlocked the cuffs, her hands trembling. They went and rescued the others including a now one-eyed Dondarrion and his lady love. According to Alys Rorge was asleep, all they had to do was carefully sneak out and steal some horses and weapons. They were saddled, armoured and ready to go when the wench said, “ There’s not enough horses.”

“I’m not coming with you," said Alys.

“He’ll kill you." Ser Dale was blunt.

“I can’t leave, this is my home. I am the innkeeper’s daughter, this place is all I have left of. .. them. I can’t leave it.”

“I won’t leave you.” The wench said stubbornly. “Theese people need us.” She looked at him beseechingly.

He sighed. ”Ser Marq take Lord Beric and Lady Allyria into the woods and hide. Lets free a village.” Alys smiled at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Their attack was sharp and calculated, they rounded up the remining men and women strong enough to swing a sword or knock someone out with a club. It wasn’t many but then again Rorge’s numbers had dwindled too. By the time Rorge came thundering down the stairs half of his men were dead. Glasses were thrown, drapes were torn down and bodies littered the floor, distinguished from drunks by the pools of slippery blood. Jaime was enjoying chasing Rorge’ second in command around, his blood singing with the thrill of it. Rorge clashed swords with Brienne and she launched herself at him. Jaime didn’t see the fight, he was too busy but Dale would tell him later that she had been incredible and he didn’t doubt it. He did see the killing blow she landed though and how his small piggy eyes widened with the shock of it. Humans, Jaime thought never really accepted the idea of death. Aerys hadn’t. He stumbled backwards, arms flailing as his chest ran slick with blood. In a cruel twist of fate one of his hands snatched at Alys arms and in his dwindling strength he pulled her too him, a knife still in his grip. “No, take me, it’s me, no. .” the wench protested advancing but it was too late. In his last moments, he slashed at her neck as she struggled.

The body of Alys seemed smaller than when she was alive. The wench had dug the grave herself and stood vigil over it. She was a girl, like many other thousands that roamed around Westeros. With her plain face and poor background she would become one f the nameless masses that no one could remember two generations onward. Except her betrayal, they could write that down on ink and paper. The Kingslayer’s first quest since his dastardly act, accompanied by a lady warrior and a few knights tricked by a girl. The betrayer, that’s what she would be. The one who might have prevented the rescue of the noble lord and his lady. But also the girl who saved them, some innkeepers daughter who had risked it al to save them. Jaime wouldn’t forget her. “It’s a pretty name, Alysanne.” He gestured to the name she had carved in a small stone acting as a headstone, echoing her earlier comment. She said nothing and Jaime felt his insides curdle. He had ruined it. Not only had he let down Elia and her last wish but now his friendship had been wrecked too. It put him in a bad mood.

If Jaime was to use one word to describe the hostage couple it would be ardent. Every word, expression and action was practically trembling with suppressed romantic feeling. They made a good looking pair even if they only had three eyes and were very starved looking, Jaime thought. Allyria wasn’t as beautiful as her sister but she was pretty enough, especially in the bloom of love. The fact that her betrothed had failed to ransom her didn’t seem to faze her, his intent so Jaime gathered had been honourable and true and she adored him for it. Their captivity might actually have given their marriage a better start than any introductory feast. They were so disgustingly in love it made Jaime quite sick to be around them. “I cannot bear being unmarried much longer. This whole ordeal has made me realise how short life is.” The Lady declared, her hand to her breast. Jaime suppressed a groan.

“Ser Davos tells me there is a small Sept nearby. I beg your pardon, Ser Jaime but My Lady and I wish to be wed in the wood that we fell in love.” He took her hand and gazed at her. Jaime glared at Davos.

“Thank you Ser Davros. Of course we would all be honoured to attend your wedding.” Jaime knew what was expected of him. The Sept was old, vines creeped around its columns giving it the look of something out of a fairytale. Inside was less impressive. Dust floated around and many of the benches had been stolen or chopped up for wood. The lovers were indifferent though. They exchanged vows in front of an old, droopy septon completely starry-eyed.

“Thank you." Lady Allyria exclaimed. She took his hand. ”I know it’s an inconvenience.” Up close the resemblance to her sister was less. She seemed so much younger. _She was, he realised, I’ve just grown older_. He wondered how much Lady Ashara had told her, how much she had spared her little sister. “You knew my sister? The Lady Ashara? She. . always spoke highly of you.” Lady Allyria looked a little embarrassed. Jaime doubted the validity of her statement. Ashara had always been suspicious of him at least at first. Her feelings were justified seeing as his father had tried to murder her friend. After the war she had warmed to him a little, his loyalty had been proven but they had never been close. The last time he had seen her had been in the Queen’s bedchamber, her face tired and weary. He had heard that she had been sent from court, mad with grief and had left her daughter to be raised at the Crown’s expense.

“I had the honour of knowing her.” He replied. She smiled her sunny smile and looked at her new husband. “Your necklace is very lovely.” He commented before he could stop himself.

Allyria flushed with pleasure. “Thank you but it isn’t mine. It’s on loan, I’m to give it to my niece, the Lady Elaena after my wedding.” Her voice wavered a little as she fingered the pendant, twisting it. Jaime had the strange urge to ask to hold it once more but he didn’t, he knew he had no right.

Afterwards he stood out in the Sept’s small gardens, the dappled sunlight made the unkempt flowers beds seem almost pretty. He heard he approach, the careful steps. “Ser Jaime.”

“My Lady.” He inclined his head. He wondered where she had been. She had accepted the Dondarrions praise uncomfortably and humbly and politely declined Lady Allyria’s invitation to Blackhaven. She had watched the starry-eyed couples ceremony with a strange, still expression and had strode quickly off. Now she was here with him alone. She took a deep breathe. “The position you spoke of, on the condition that Renly allows me to leave his service I would like to express my interest."

He stared a her dumbly for a second. “Yes that would be wonderful. You can come with me to he Rock and we’ll make arrangements to go to. . court.” She nodded and then left, walking quickly as if she was being chased. He stared up at the clear blue sky, suddenly everything seemed beautiful. Ser Davos who had been loitering nearby out of earshot at least came over. Really, thought Jaime, whatever this man earns isn’t enough, he has such a strong work ethic despite being a criminal. “Ser Davos." he greeted, his mood buoyant. The man registered the correct use of his name and smiled. “May I ask a favour? Can you go to the Septon or someone literate and tell them to write to my brother. The letter should inform him of my intention to return to the Rock soon with Lady Tarth. Make sure it says I have found her. Those exact words. Ok?” The man inclined his head.

“Tarth shall miss it’s lady I fear.” Jaime hadn’t considered that, he would have to think on that later.

“Perhaps."he allowed.

“Well the Sapphire Isle’s loss is the Westerland’s gain.” It was a strange way of putting it and unlike Ser Davos’ usual style of speech but Jaime appreciated the sentiment behind it.

“The Sapphire Isle? A very appropriate name. One only has to look to see” He could picture the blue now.

“You’ve been there my Lord?” asked Davos surprised. He saw Jaime’s puzzlement. “It is named for the blue of its waters.” Jaime hadn’t been thinking of its waters.

After Davos left he watched the sun begin to set. "I did it” he whispered to Elia, ” I found her.” A black cat came mewling into the garden and settled on his lap. He smiled, enjoying the silence.


	4. The Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne goes to the Rock and she, Jaime and Tyrion go to Kings Landing in time for the Spring Feast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read the other story you already know what happens in the feast. I split the chapter because it was getting to long, yes I know I maybe incapable of finishing stuff without huge amounts of waffle. Sorry for the delay. Feedback as always is welcome, I'm going to try and reply to comments soon, I've just had a busy month. But Rhaenys finally makes an appearance like 2 chapters later than I planned. Also I think I might add a few tags as warning the ending is probably going to be bittersweet on this story.

The next week or so passed in a bit of a blur for Jaime. They travelled back quickly to Stormsend to receive the gushing praise of its court. He spent the journey with a strange inner peace that he hadn't had since. . .well he could barely remember. Robert greeted them, a little sulkily, annoyed that he'd missed out on the adventure but he cheered up when the full story came out. "You had to be rescued by some common wench? Ha! Well, is she here? Is she a pretty one?"

"Alys died in the fight my Lord." Jaime answered.

"Oh, some knights you are hey? Having to be saved by some peasant girl." Robert said, in jest Jaime knew but he saw Brienne freeze.

His reunion with Cersei was stiff and formal. "Have you changed your mind?" she asked.

"No."

"Then we have nothing left to speak of. Enjoy the road back to Casterly Rock, I hear you're bringing her."

"I'm going to train her." Jaime said honestly. Cersei's face twisted in amusement but she said nothing, she didn't say another word to him.

Brienne had asked to speak to Renly alone, to beg his forgiveness. He granted her request as Jaime knew he would but she still looked unhappy. Jaime comforted himself with the knowledge that soon she would have a much more glorious task. Rhaenys would treat her kindly as her mother had treated those who were loyal and good. Renly sought him afterwards an amused smile on his face. "You have stolen my protector." he commented not looking particularly upset.

"Yes." Jaime replied simply. _She was meant for greater things than you_.

"I hear you mean to bring her to court, don't worry I won't tell anyone . . just. . be careful, Brienne's trust is her greatest quality but it could also be her downfall." He had the audacity to frame his face in a worried expression. "You will take care of her, whatever this is?"

"Yes. "Jaime answered shortly. He was quickly loosing his temper. He had seen how Renly treated her, like some joke he could use when he bothered to throw her the slightest bit of attention. Stannis also seem to harbour some ideas about the enterprise. He insisted on a bloody Septa accompanying them for propriety's sake. Jaime wanted to throttle him but made himself smile and agree. Stannis narrowed his eyes in suspicion and anger. Ser Davos smiled apologetically at his side. "What about Davros here?" Jaime enquired.

Stannis shot him a chilly glance which could have frozen some of the deserts in Dorne. "Have a safe journey."

The next day they began in the stuffy carriage with a surprisingly pleasant Septa named Isla. She was an old lady with a wrinkled face and soft, snowy hair on her way to Lannisport to pass on her healing gifts to the Sept there. She didn't seem to mind when Jaime and Brienne would go out riding on their horses the minute they were out of sight from Stormsend. The woman just chuckled softly and sewed in her carriage. "The longing for the open sky," she said knowingly.

"She's much nicer than the Septa we had growing up," Jaime said as the rode over green hills. "Well the first one was an old harridan, the second one though was completely terrified of Cersei." he chuckled at the memory of the white-faced woman trying to control the whims of the golden girl. "What was yours like?"

"Her name was Roelle."

"That's not an answer. Oh, she wasn't awful was she? I think the first one tried to hit me with a slipper once or was that a groomsman? I can't remember."

"I'm sure many servants wished to hit you with a slippers." she assured him.

"What was she like?" he pestered.

"She. . she never hit me with slippers or anything else. She taught me sewing and other ladylike vocations. She's dead now." Jaime felt his mood sink a little. Breaking her vow to Renly had really taken a toll on her spirits, she had always been a little dour but she seemed distracted and disengaged as if her mind was elsewhere. "Well are you any good?"

"At what?" she asked, frowning.

"Sewing?"

She inhaled sharply as if he had insulted her. "I can stitch a wound, Goodwin showed me how." she said. Her face softened slightly. "He was the Master of Arms at Tarth. He taught me how to fight, how to deal with wounds, all about knights and their tactics, about current great warriors and ones from the past. . . he's dead now too." There was sadness in her voice now. Jaime wondered what he had told young, impressionable Brienne about him. In fact he didn't have to wonder, he knew. Kingslayer. "Want to race?" he asked casually. She smiled gratefully at him, her competitive side already breaking through the grief. They spent the rest of the afternoon in laughter.

Their route to Casterly Rock was not as straightforward as usual as they wished to avoid as many stops at Keeps as possible. Jaime had no wish to converse with Lords and Ladies about the unreliability of staff or whose husband had been caught in a chamber with a maid and so on. If the Septa or the guards minded they had the sense not to say so. Brienne too he knew loved sleeping under the open sky. She would have no such pleasure when she got to king's landing, a voice in his head whispered. Jaime ignored it. He was sure once she earned renown the royal family would send her on quests if she wished, like a member of the Kingsguard. Like the life he thought he would have. Jaime pushed that uncomfortable thought away and went to sleep. They stopped at a minor house for some supplies as Isla had taken a little ill. “Stop fussing,” she scolded, waving her newly brewed medicine with the Maesters supplies,"A little bit of this and a good nights rest and I’ll be right as rain.” The Lord of the house of course offered them a bed for the night and some supplies but he was distracted as he already had much grander guests. Lord and Lady Florent had deigned to visit his little keep and he spent the only night they stayed there fussing over them. The Florents made a handsome couple though the man would not shut up about some recent tourney win he had. The Lady looked like Ashara in colouring but apart from that reminded Jaime little of her Lady mother. Or her rumoured hot-blooded father. He gripped her hand a little too tightly thinking of his desperate clawing. He hadn’t screamed in the painful choking, hadn’t gave the gleeful king his satisfaction but when his Fathers screams had stopped Jaime saw something die in him. It was a kindness really, the strangling device seemed very painful, a prolonged death, better to be already dead inside. Elaena snatched her hand back more in surprise than hurt.

Within five minutes Jaime realised he disliked her husband, an irritable bore and felt a pang of pity for her. She could have done much worse, she was a bastard with a nameless father and disgraced mothers, in fact Jaime reconsidered she was lucky to do so well. He felt an odd, unusual swelling of gratitude towards the King and his Stark girl, they had arranged a good match which is what Elia would have wanted surely?

“Are you going to visit the capital?” he enquired.

“Oh no, His grace was most gracious but we can’t intrude upon their hospitality too often can we my lady?” Lord Florent addressed his wife as if he hoped she would contradict him.

“No, it wouldn’t be . . appropriate.” she answered. “Are you heading back to Casterly Rock My Lord?”

“Yes, me and the w-Lady are hoping to make it in a weeks time.” He was already bored, he wondered if they could spar in the yard before supper.

“Well of course there’s supposed to be a feast soon in the celebration of spring awakening.” Lord Florent said excitedly. “The Maesters say spring is coming soon, great news for all of us, it means we can plan for harvest and truly reap our rewards.” He smiled at Jaime as if they were on the same page. “To get what we deserve.” Elaena stared at her congealing plate, took a deep breath and continued eating.

Isla, true to her word insisted she was much better and the next day they set off again.

"What were you and Lady Elaena speaking of?" Jaime asked curiously. He had seen the two of them in the early hours of the morning having what looked like from an admittedly far distance an intense conversation.

"We spoke of her Aunt's rescue." Brienne replied. Jaime wasn't sure if he believed her. He wondered why she didn't have the pendant, did Rhaenys wear hers? Had Elia and Ashara given them to their daughters as they had once planned, together?

They rode through the Westerlands, through fields of food and grass. On the last night, they left their rolls around the campfire and left to spar. The Septa lay sleeping, her face gentle even in sleep. Jaime would miss her he realised. They went further into the woods so not to disturb her but not too far in case she was in trouble. They sparred until they were red and sweaty, the night time breeze cool against their skin as they walked back to camp. He would miss this too, he thought. They both stiffened at the distant sound of trampling and singing. On investigation it was just a couple of drunks stumbling around, singing at the top of their voices. They could still hear the slurred voices, as they sang completely tone deaf a rendition of a song known by many names.

"Alys loved this song, "Lady Lyanna." she said it was so romantic." Brienne said sadly. Jaime didn't respond, this song always filled him with anger. She was looking at him closely. You don't though, you don't like the King and Queen. When we toasted every night on the quest for good fortune, you never said the word King, you mouthed it and when you say Queen I don't think you mean the Lady Lyanna." she observed. Said like that made Jaime feel incredibly petty and childish.

"Well I'm annoyed at my exclusion or well my mention depending on which version." he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked as they arrived back at camp, Isla still fast asleep.

"I mean their epic love story ballad. Their love started a war but it didn't finish it, I did. But I'm usually not mentioned, nor are the thousands that died." he was beginning to get angry now, he could hear the faint warbling of the drunks.

_Oh how her grey eyes would gleam_

_The most beautiful creature the silver prince had ever seen_

"I'm part of their song or whatever and well, I'm the villain so no I don't drink to their health. No-one really likes that song anyway. Only the sappy romantics or drunken fools." It was true, it didn't have the enduring appeal like Jenny of Oldstones for example. At least Jaime thought so, it didn't even rhyme well.

_A man of great destiny and power,_

_Their loved bloomed like an eternal flower_

That doesn't even make sense he thought sourly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that Alys was stupid, it's just, well I'm biased against them. If they hadn't of run off together things would be different. I would be different and the Lady Elia was my friend. She was hurt deeply by it." A part of him knew he couldn't blame them for everything. Aerys' madness was a long developed monster before that fateful tourney but the song hadn't needed to have ended the way it did. "You'll meet them and see. They are like something out of a song. I suppose I can't blame them, their precious love was tainted by the unfortunate fact that I had stabbed his father in the back or that's how the story goes."

"Did you?"

"No, I slit his throat." he said simply.

"Why?" She was looking intently at him.

"He was going to burn down the city or start a fire anyway, I wasn't quite sure as he had a tendency to babble but he made one thing clear, the inferno would cleanse the world. Show Rhaegar who was still King, show the world his true form, the dragon. His enemies would tremble blah blah blah. My father would tremble more like. He was hoping to take advantage of the situation as usual. He gave the order so I killed he snivelling pyromancer and caught up with him when he tried to make a run for it." Brienne stared at him. "I know I'm pretty to look at wench but in conversations you really have to say/"

"I'm so sorry Jaime, why didn't you tell someone." she put her hand on his and squeezed it to show solidarity. "And don't call me wench." she added. He smiled at her.

"I couldn't. It would weaken the Targaryen dynasty and Rhaeger had ever so kindly let me live. He didn't want people knowing his father was a monster." They sat in companionable silence for a while.

"You know something? I'm really glad I asked you to dance." he said as they watching the dying fire.

"Me too."

As they got closer to the Rock Jaime felt a prick of nerves. He never really had guests. There was the search candidates of course, his family and Addam but she was the first real outsider to come here. The Rock towered above them, a huge golden monstrosity. The great, golden gilded doors opened at their arrival. They stabled their horses and Jaime saw to his surprise his Aunt’s carriage. “Aunt Genna’s here?” he asked Tyrion confusedly after embracing him on the steps. The palatial hallway shone with recent cleaning and the servants lined the hall in their best attire. Jaime was a little confused with all the fanfare, usually he came home and snuck back to his chambers. “Well, I thought the Lady would appreciate some female company.” Tyrion replied, “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” He was looking at Brienne very intently who was as per usual trying to make herself as small as possible. It made Jaime smile.

“This is Brienne, the Maid of Tarth.” He gestured grandly, his voice echoing in the cavernous hall. Brienne shot him a murderous glare and bowed. “Brienne, this is my brother the imp.” Tyrion shot him an equally murderous glare. It was very reassuring.

“My Lady, I’m honoured to welcome you to Casterly Rock, the humble home of our ancestors.” Jaime stared at Tyrion, why was he being so weird? And no one with a working pair of eyes would ever call the Rock humble. Aunt Genna came bustling in. “Careful.” He whispered to her,” she’s a terrible gossip.” Brienne looked at him beseechingly as Aunt Genna began to fuss over her but she smiled when she tugged his ear.

“Not another letter, not one, we’ve been expecting you two for days, honestly Jaime what did that father of yours teach you? Well you should both change in time for the feast.” She sniffed disapprovingly at their mud-stained breeches and torn shirts.

“Feast?” he asked, his eyebrow raised.

“Dinner,” amended Tyrion,” Just us, we’ve ordered a few special things that’s all.” He made a hand gesture and summoned a pretty, young girl with sandy curls. “Rosamund will show you to your chambers, My Lady.”

“Make sure you put her in one of the sea-facing ones.” Jaime ordered without thinking.

The so called feast really was just a nice dinner. Jaime noted the use of their finest cutlery with amusement, if anything it would just make Brienne more nervous. But then again wasn’t that the point? This huge, impressive accumulation of wealth was to intimidate, to remind people who was best and that the Lannister’s would always be golden. It wasn’t supposed to put friends at ease or let people be comfortable. He remembered talking about the Rock in earnest whilst Elia sewed in a quiet corner of the garden. She smiled at his recollection of Tyrion running around as the infamous dragon tamer knocking over priceless vases in his attempts to befriend the imaginary, long dead beasts. “You make it sound so homely.” She said, stitching a pattern Jaime couldn’t quite decipher.

“It is my home.” He pointed out.

“There is no place like home.” She said softly and Jaime knew she wasn’t thinking of here with Aerys' looming paranoia or gloomy Dragonstone but Sunspear. Jaime could picture the ugly, squat building adorned by the beautiful Rhoynish towers and its confusing maze of passages. She had said he could visit one day and the Water Gardens too, the idyllic paradise that Jaime, young and scared in the hell that was King’s Landing had half thought she had made up. He never found out if it was how she had so lovingly described and his promise to show her the Rock properly this time had never materialised either. Would she have liked all this grandeur? Had she liked it when she had visited as a child? Had Cersei and him been good hosts? She had never really spoken of it properly. Aunt Genna as usual monopolised the conversation, she really was a force to be reckoned with. Tyrion managed to squeeze in a few witty remarks. Brienne looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her and turned to him beseechingly. He smiled at her and shrugged in an attempt to show his powerlessness. Elia could have reassured her, she could always do it for him. How had she done it?

“I think she’s wonderful. A little odd perhaps but kind and honest.” Tyrion told him in his study afterwards.

“Yes, yes exactly, her honesty will help her I’m sure of it. Elia would have loved her, she always said trust was more precious than any treasure in this world.”

“Yes, I’m sure the Queen would have liked to have met her and been there.”

“Been there for what?”

“The ceremony of course. I don’t know how big you want to make it, I know you are both pretty private/”

Jaime felt the twist of confusion again. “ Ceremony? I mean I’m not sure Rhaenys would want a big thing but I suppose when we get to King’s Landing she can confirm Brienne in front of everyone.” Tyrion stared at him from a second.

“Kings Landing? You mean . . the protector. When you wrote that you had found her, you meant the protector. The knight.” He looked a little stricken; Jaime was surprised he thought Tyrion would feel ecstatic like himself.

“What do you think I meant?”

“I thought . . . Ser Davos he wrote that. . “ Jaime waited expectantly, a little amused at Tyrion’s expression. He rarely saw his brother look so wrong-footed. The amusement died with Tyrion’s next words, “ I thought that you were announcing your engagement.”

“ What?”

“I. . .I heard rumours that you had struck up some kind of friendship with a woman, a. . .a fighter and then Ser Davos wrote telling me how happy you were and that you had found someone . . and you were, well you were bringing her here. . here, Casterly, you never invite anyone so I thought . . .” he trailed off a little helplessly.

“You thought I was getting married.” Jaime said slowly, unable to believe what he was hearing. It was so absurd, so ridiculous, he couldn’t really think . . . . Jaime began to laugh. Tyrion was looking a strange mix of contrite, defensive and a little relieved that Jaime wasn’t angry. “Wait, is that why Aunt Genna’s here?”

“No, well I didn’t say anything but I thought it would be a good idea if another woman was here to help introduce her to Casterly. . stop laughing I was being thoughtful!”

“Did you have the Rock prepared? Is that why all the staff look on edge?” Jaime was still smiling but it had begun to hurt a little.

“All I said was that a special guest was coming.” Tyrion protested. He was starting to look annoyed and a bit disappointed.

“I can’t believe you Tyrion. “Jaime said shaking his head and mentally deciding to forever designate Davos as Davros forevermore.

“Yes, it was a ridiculous idea.” Tyrion’s voice had become noticeably colder. “You and her, no one would ever believe it.” Jaime realised a second too late what he meant.

“Oh it’s not because she’s . . you jumped to a huge conclusion and well we should be celebrating, Elia’s wish is coming to pass.” Tyrion still looked a little unhappy but he nodded.

The next day Aunt Genna announced her departure. Her sons needed rescuing form her idiot stoat of her husband she explained apologetically. Jaime watched Brienne blush uncomfortably and smiled. If only she could have met fiery uncle Tyg. Just before she departed, she pulled Jaime’s ear and bought him close to her face. “I’m not going to tell you what to do Jaime, you are past grown now. You have to make these choices for yourself.” She gave him a significant look, patted Tyrion on the cheek and climbed into her carriage. Jaime was relieved if he was honest. He couldn’t understand her sometimes and now he and Brienne could run around free without her ludicrous plans to try and trap him into marriage. They spent the next moon mostly training. They trained with others to add variety but they still preferred to train together. Jaime also at Tyrion’s insistence showed Brienne the Rock with him. Brienne, who Jaime decided was far too polite for her own good, nodded in the right places at Tyrion’s lectures on the family history. He perked up a little at their armoury. “This is where Brightroar was.” He pointed to the old brass brace, stilly shiny and empty as if it was waiting for the sword to magically reappear. “Have you ever fought with Valyrian steel?”

“No.” Brienne replied wistfully. “To fight with such steel would be an honour.”

“Yes, that is the chosen weapon of the warrior.”

Brienne shook her head. “You can use almost anything in defence especially in a just cause as long as you respect the honour of the fight.” They argued cheerfully and Jaime didn’t realise Tyrion had slipped out until long after.

One day he took her to one of his favourites spots on the cliffs edge. The sea wind whipped through their hair and they could taste the salt spray. Jaime struck out his arms, embracing the cloudy blue sky. “I love the sea.” he told her. She seemed to stifle a laugh. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she shook her head and turned away covering her mouth with her hand.

“What?” he asked her again.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. . I’m just smiling.” Jaime clutched his heart dramatically and fainted. She ran over to him. “By the Seven Jaime are you alright?” she grabbed him and shook him gently but then immediately dropped him as if he was scalding hot when she realised he was fine. “Sorry, ow, did you have to drop me so suddenly? It was the shock, you, the dour wench smiling! For no reason.” He rubbed his shoulder.

She glared at him. “It’s called being happy, aren’t you happy and my name is Brienne.” He rolled over in the soft, green grass and realised that he was . . .happy. He felt strangely light. It must be the burden of his last knightly quest finally gone. “I’m sorry, you should smile as much as you wish. “ he held out his hand in a conciliatory manner and tried to look as apologetic as possible. “Hey you know what will be fun?”

“This better not be one of your stupid jokes.” She warned him.

“Let’s jump off.” He burst in excitedly,” I used to do it with Addam when we were children. Oh come on it will be fun.”

Brienne sighed. “Tyrion said you might suggest this.”

“Oh come on, the rush, it’s fantastic, well you must know, surely there are cliffs on Tarth?”

Brienne looked at the gentle waves for a second and her face became determined. “Ok. Let’s do it, wait- what are you doing?” She turned away abruptly when he began unlacing his shirt.

“What you want to jump in all our clothes?” Jaime rolled his eyes, Addam hadn’t minded. “Fine come on.” He laced his shirt up again. He felt like a child again, walking as close to the edge as he dared, the excitement building and building. Brienne faltered beside him once they reached the furthest they could go unless they developed the ability to walk on air suddenly. She stared at the shiny blue-green mass beneath them and swallowed. “Together?” he asked holding out his hand. She nodded and took it.

They jumped.

The rush of air was just as thrilling as he remembered and they hit the water with a crash. He tried to hold on but they went hurtling apart. He surfaced, choking a little on the seawater. “Well?” he asked her once he had gotten his breath back. She was watching the water stream between her fingers, lost in her own world. “Its. . . wonderful, I haven’t been in so long.”

“You haven’t? An island girl like you?” he teased. She splashed him which led to a splash fight which led to a race where Jaime had to eventually concede defeat. “I can’t believe you’re faster than me.” He complained sulkily.

“I do have youth on my side.” She conceded and laughed at his outraged expression.

“I’m not that much older than you.” He protested splashing her.

They swam out a small, soft sandy cove with small rockpools filled with shiny stones and small wildlife. They lay on the sand looking at the deepening sky. From here the sky and sea seem to merge at a certain point, just an infinity of peaceful swirls of blue. “What’s Tarth like?” he asked when he could no longer bear the silence. She groaned and rolled over to face him.

“You can’t help it can you? You have this strange compulsion to talk don’t you?”

“Well, I’ve ruined the so-called silence so you might as well answer.” He returned over onto his side too. They were only ever this close when they were fighting. It was strange being close like this.

“Tarth. . . it’s well it is what it is. I grew up knowing nothing else.”

“Yes, but you’ve been to some places now, what’s it like?”

“Well, Evenfall Hall is considered lovely. It’s not. . well like here but it’s quite spacious. Many Lord and ladies have complimented our antique furniture.” Jaime restrained himself from rolling his eyes, he had shown her his home but she couldn’t even describe hers. She seemed to read his thoughts. “What’s your favourite thing about it, the Hall?” he tried again. She hesitated.

“There are some windows, they match the little sept there, they’re multi-coloured stain glassed ones and well they’re beautiful. They tell a story. Like the one in the woods where Lord Dondarrion and Lady Allyria married.”

“There were no stain glass windows there.” Jaime noted a little confused.

“Oh, the windows had been broken and yes but you could imagine it couldn’t you, that little Sept in the woods. . .” she trailed off embarrassed and a little sad. She rolled back onto her back. “Tarth is very small, there is a lot of fishing villages and mountains, with clear blue waters. That is what Tarth is known for, the blue of its waters. The water is crystal clear in some places, you can see everything. I used to go and look in them, trying to spot different kinds of fish.”

“Did you swim in it a lot?” Jaime asked fascinated.

“No, my father didn’t allow it.” She said abruptly and started to shift away from him but stopped. “That’s not true, he didn’t forbid it but he always came with me and worried. . . It made me feel guilty. I. . . I couldn’t enjoy it.”

“Was he very protective?”

“No, my brother he drowned and my father was always nervous about the water afterwards. Or so a servant told me. ” She said it in such a matter of fact way that the information almost passed through Jaime’s mind. He was starting to feel a little sleepy, the sand sticking to his sun warmed skin and he was wrapped up with thoughts of the Sapphire Isle and the blue waters. The waters where her brother had drowned. He felt shocked; she had told him she was an only child, hadn’t she? He didn’t know what to say, it was one of the most personal things she had ever told him, he had to say the right thing. But he didn’t know what that was. Paralysed by an uncharacteristic feeling of indecision the moment passed and she sat up, offering him a small but closed smile. “Let’s get back, Tyrion will be waiting.”

Jaime was annoyed with himself and he didn’t know why. What was a person supposed to say when the other person mentioned a brother they had not spoken of before. He pushed his food around distractedly as Tyrion wittered on about some new Valyria translation he had received. It was vey illuminating apparently. “Where did you get it from?” Brienne asked.

“A friend.” Tyrion answered vaguely. “You see the theory that this could possibly support. . .” Finally he retired to his room and Jaime suspected a good bottle of wine.

“Let’s dance.” He suggested.

She blinked at him. “I thought after today you would be too tired to spar.”

“No, the other kind of dancing.”

“There’s, there’s no music.” She stammered her face flushing.

“Oh.” Jaime replied. “I’m sorry about your brother and I’m sorry I didn’t say that earlier.”

She looked surprised and flushed too. “You don’t have to apologise, truthfully I cannot remember him.” There was a sad pause as she played with her hands. “What’s it like, having a sibling?”

“I don’t know any other way. Cersei and I, we came into this world together. I could no more explain it to you than you could explain being an only child.”

“I remember my sisters a little.” She said sadly. “Why are you and Cersei fighting?” It was the boldest question she had asked yet.

“She thinks I promised the Rock to her son.” He swallowed some wine trying to bury the bitterness with the sour, rich flavour.

“Did you?”

“I never explicitly named Tyrion as my heir I suppose but. . . well how can she expect that of me? To disinherit my brother? She always wants too much.” The words were hash but true. He had always admired Cersei’s drive, it masked the nagging concern that he had little of his own but she had pushed too far this time. Brienne was considering him thoughtfully. He hoped she didn’t know. He didn’t dare to risk to ask her and she he was certain would never bring up such despicable insinuations. "She's got it into her head just because I said Tommen looked like father, I mean come on.”

“We cling to certain ideas sometimes and find evidence that isn’t really there.” Brienne said softly, “ Our hearts play tricks on us and read into things. We assume we are right because how can we not be? We cannot see into others heads.” For some reason Jaime thought of Renly. “Are you missing Renly?” he asked.

“A little,” she admitted, “ Do you miss anyone from the capita like the Kingsguard?” Her face was open and eager.

“No.” Jaime wasn’t sure if he was lying.” I wasn’t ever really one of them. I miss others though. Some of the staff, the Queen of course even Lady Ashara though we were never close. It’s hard you see to build friendships there.” Brienne looked a little scared. Along with physical training he had been attempting to school her in the poisonous ways of the court .Renly was right, her good heart would make her a target. Tyrion actually provided the better information as all the scheming was beyond him. She seemed a little disgusted but resigned to the machinations of the rich and powerful. “I met the Lady Elia there,” he reassured her “ and she was my dearest friend.” He realised with sudden clarity he would never have a friend like her again. “You will have Rhaenys, she will protect you as her mother did for me just as much as you will protect her.” Brienne looked uneasily at her hands. Jaime got up and went to sit beside her. “What is it? What’s bothering you? Tell me Brienne.”

She looked at him and for some reason he felt very nervous. “It’s about what you said in that dungeon.” Jaime looked at her blankly.” About how Renly would get bored of me eventually.” She clarified. “Princess Rhaneys . . well she has been surrounded by interesting people her whole life. Around proper ladies of the court and knights/”

“Stop. Don’t, you should ignore me like most of the time, I . . “ he wanted to say he hadn’t meant it but he knew he had and he knew she knew that too. “I’m sorry but, is this what you’ve been worrying about? Look, Renly he bored easily and it will be different this time.”

“How do you know?” she asked, “You haven’t seen her in years.”

“Because you will be her protector. Trust me, her mother will have taught her the true value of you.” He could see she was still unconvinced. “Look, do you trust me? You might not. . .connect right away. Her mother and I didn’t?” He registered her look of surprise. “It’s not that I didn’t like her but it took time. . . and our friendship was all the better for it I think. Just be yourself and it will happen. We didn’t get on remember at first? You have to trust me.” She smiled.

“Yes you were very irritating.” She nodded in agreement as if he had said that.

“I wouldn’t say irritating/” He broke off as Tyrion entered the room.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just wondering if I could have the book back that I leant you? Just for tonight, I wanted to check something.”

“Yes, of course. It’s in my chamber I’ll go get it.” Brienne said and left the room.

“There’s a letter for you from Kings Landing.” Tyrion told him, holding out the letter. Jaime got up excitedly, only one person would be writing to him. “ Also Cersei, she has charged her new dress bill to our account. I mean honestly, she got three new dresses perfectly fine for this kind of occasion.” He held out a second letter which Jaime ignored.

”Pay the bill.” He ordered scanning the letter. It was the second one he had received since returning home, the first being a congratulatory note of his rescue of the Dondarrions enclosed with golden pin of a lightning strike and a falling star stricken sky. There had been something a little off though, he hadn’t paid much attention to it as usual as he had been introducing Brienne to Casterly. In the past few letters she had barely told him anything about how she was doing he realised. It hadn’t started out that way but now he looked again and saw no mention of her family or even her friends. It was all about what she was doing and inquiries to himself and his life. In fact, they mostly spoke of him in their correspondence. The Queen had often used questions to drive conversations certain ways. She would tilt her head slightly like an inquisitive bird and smile as if the answer was the most important thing in the world. But Rhaenys was not her mother, the more rational side of his brain argued and they needed time to. . to what? Jaime felt a sudden urge to see her. He had wanted too for years, why should they be resigned to paper and ink only? He had only seen Elia once after his departure from Kings Landing in disgrace. _Once_. His reply to her previous letter had been bland, he had wanted his discovery to remain a surprise but what if she thought he wasn’t interested in her life? In her? That he had forgotten her?

“Jaime are you listening to me? We have been invited to the spring feast the week after next, who should I send to represent the family?”

“No-one.” He answered looking at the careful, neat words. He remembered her trying to write for the first time in big looping circle trying to copy her mother's penmanship..

_“It doesn’t look like yours.” She had wailed, her small face screwed up as she tried not to cry. Elia was cradling her new born son and shaking her head softly. “Sweetling, it will take time for that. I think it’s lovely. Are you writing a story? Why don’t you tell me about it?” She stroked Rhaenys hair gently._

_“ It’s about a dragon mama, I’ve got one and me and Balerion go riding on it.”_

_“You won’t ride a dragon.” Viserys said outraged. “ Dornish people aren’t dragons, they belong with snakes, Father says so. You should write about that instead. It could be a giant one though and be poisonous.”_

_“Viserys. Rhaenys can have a dragon if she wants one.” Rhaella chided._

_“But Father said-“_

“Jaime. Seriously? Did you hear me?” Tyrion interrupted his reverie. “What do you mean?”

“We’re going.” he said. There was no more reason to wait. Rhaenys would be a woman grown soon, many would argue she already was. Brienne’s steady improvement could be continued in King’s Landing and if he was honest with himself he had taught her as much as he could fighting wise. She had learned all she needed to know. It was time.

Comprehension dawned on his brother’s face. “ I thought perhaps we could wait a while longer. I mean almost everyone will be there.”

“We’re invited aren’t we? It’s perfect and there’s no real reason to wait.” He looked at the letter instead of Tyrion. “We’ll set off in the morning. We’ll just make it if we hurry.”

The journey was intense as they had to keep up a punishing pace but they finally arrived, in the late evening, a few hours late to the festivities. Jaime had sent a letter on ahead to inform Rhaenys of his arrival and that he had a surprise for her. This was it. Brienne got out of the carriage and Jaime made to follow her. Tyrion stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Jaime.” He whispered. Jaime’s heart sank a little at his intense expression, they had to go, did he have no sense of urgency? He had been avoiding him a little on the journey, choosing to ride with Brienne instead of in the carriage with his brother until they reached the city, savouring his last time with her.Tyrion opened his mouth and then closed it again. He sighed. “You can change your mind Jaime, it doesn’t have to be tonight or even on this visit.” Jaime stared at him confused. “I just think, well . . . are you certain this is what you want?” He fixed him with an unsettling, penetrating stare with his mismatched eyes. “She . . Brienne could help us find someone else. . . I’m just not sure. . . “

“What? What are you so unsure of?” Jaime kept his voice devoid of emotion.

“I just think Elia would have/”

“Stop.” Jaime had heard enough. “We’ve made our decision.” How would Tyrion know anything about the Queen? He’d pushed too far. Jaime didn’t want to think about what he was saying. He didn’t want Tyrion to end that sentence.

“You can change your mind.” Tyrion repeated his voice so quiet Jaime wasn’t sure he heard him. He left the carriage without another word.

Walking through the familiar routes with Tyrion and Brienne was strangely exhilarating. The last time he had been in this castle was visiting the Queen on her deathbed, it was fitting that his return was fulfilling her last wish. This was it, what had hovered in the back of his mind since their last conversation. They walked to the great hall. Tyrion and Brienne looked around in a mixture of awe and worry at this new environment and at the staring people but to Jaime it was like they weren’t here. They were just background players in some mummers show to the final act. The Great Hall door were open and inside the feast was in full swing. Hours late, piles of delicious food was still arranged on tables lining the side but the focus had moved onto the dancing Jaime judged. Couples spun around the floor to a merry tune whilst people milled around the edges gossiping, bragging and laughing. Jaime searched for her on the floor but he couldn’t see her. The dais. The thought came to him suddenly.

He began to walk to the top of the room, sidestepping people impatiently. He could see Rhaegar, his silvery hair glinting in the candlelight a crown on his brow. He was facing away from Jaime, whispering in his wife’s ear. Lyanna was flushed, not of embarrassment but joy, her smile so wide it could split her face. His eyes slid past them searching. . . she should be there, where was she? There were two young men sat next to them, one silvery haired and the other dark haired. The sons but not the daughter. His feet seemed to move without his brain’s instruction, closer and closer . . . she must be close by. And then they were there. Jaime didn’t quite know what to do so he smiled at the two stiffening white knights. He could still make them uncomfortable, he always would. She wasn’t stood near them. He swallowed a sigh and began the old, courtly dance. “Your Grace. I’m sorry I’m late. May I present my brother Tyrion of House Lannister and Brienne, the Maid of Tarth.” He could feel her glare and was comforted by the familiarity of it.

“Welcome My Lord. We had not known if you were to come today but our hearts are gladdened to see you.” Jaime suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and smiled as falsely as possible. The King in Jaime’s whole acquaintance had never been glad, it interfered with his soulful music. Perhaps this was a mistake, he should have waited. . no he forced himself to remember Elia shrunken on her deathbed. “Excuse me but may I ask after your companion, is she your wife or your brother’s wife perhaps?” the Stark girl asked sounding confused. Perhaps she was ill?, Jaime thought and had retired to her room?

“She is a gift.” He answered distractedly, his mind going into a vague panic. What if the King had found out and was keeping her from him? He was starting to come up with increasingly ridiculous reasons of why it would go wrong but he forced himself to remain calm, this was meant to be. He kept looking.

“Who’s it for?” The Griffin Lord asked. Jaime didn’t like Brienne being referred to as an it.

“Hmmm?” he answered. Lord Jon glared at him, still red haired and blue eyed just. . . older.

“I said who is the gift for?”

“The King’s daughter.” Jaime said honestly.

“Princess Rhaenys?” The surprise in his voice annoyed Jaime, who else would he be here for?

“Well the King only has the one daughter, doesn’t he.” It was out before he could stop it, the cutting remark. He could see Elia now shaking her head in frustration, don’t you see Jaime, you need to learn to hold her tongue in some situations. He could feel Rhaegar’s stare and was keenly aware that Elia wasn’t here to help him. She couldn’t save him with her words or her title or her fake coughing fits. He felt Tyrion stand on his foot. Jaime turned to reassure him when he heard a hush fall over the room and then he saw her.

She was walking towards him and for a second, just a second he thought as he blinked through the light. . . Dark, naturally curly tendrils framed her face and her dress, a confection of delicate orange, red and yellow shone in the light. She smiled at him, her eyes filled with genuine delight. Jaime felt like a heavy weight in his chest that had been there so long he no longer seem to notice it had been lifted somehow, she was here, happy, healthy and alive. Elia would be so pleased and relieved. The princess reached him and embraced him. A cloud of perfume reached his nose and he felt like he was back here again, with her mother by his side. “You came.” She whispered. He could hear the relief in her voice. “You actually came.” She was looking at him in wide eyed wonder. Jaime opened his mouth and for a second was lost for words. “This is Brienne of Tarth, the woman I wanted you to meet.” He stepped out the way to watch them greet. Brienne’s bow was awkward and she had gone a little red but Rhaenys clasped her hands together in delight. “Thank you for coming Lady Tarth, I will be honoured to show you around the castle on the morrow.”

“I have found her, a true protector as per your mother’s last wish.” he said, unable to hold it in. Brienne blushed deeper but Rhaenys smiled at them both. It was like looking at the sun, it almost hurt. She turned and walked up to her father and said something that Jaime couldn’t hear but she quickly returned, rubbing her hand curiously and they went to dance. Jaime could admit to himself he had always been a pretty good dancer but he had never really enjoyed it. Not this kind of dancing. Usually it felt too practiced and rehearsed. They spun around in the elegant steps drilled into them since birth but he found it seemingly surreal. The little girl who had hugged her little demon kitten as if she couldn’t breathe without him had grown into this beautiful young woman who people bowed in deference too.

They chatted amiably and giggled at some of the goggling looks they received.

"I love your dress." he complimented her.

"Thank you, it was a gift from my uncle. My original one encountered some wine." The pendant swung around while they twirled. Jaime wondered if Elaena was wearing the matching one but then remembered her aunt had it instead.

Time flew by and when a troupe of jugglers came out to entertain the crowds, Rhaenys whispered in his ear. "Come, bring Lady Tarth. I want to show you something."

The portrait hung in one of her chambers. It was large with a golden, embossed frame with strange, winding patterns. Jaime had never really care for art. Sometimes when he was bored he would look at some of the portraits in Casterly Rock hallowed halls and corridors, laughing at some of the particularly sour expressions. He never really felt interested in them, his mind often wondering if Tyrion caught him and explained excitedly their family’s long, painful and violent history. Even the one of him that Tyrion insisted was necessary a few years ago didn’t stir anything in him. It was an object. A pretty, expensive object like so many in the glittering cave of treasures that was in the Rock. The only portrait that had had any meaning was the one of his parents, the only image of his mother, dead before her time. Elia’s painted face stared out at him, smiling. She had been captured much happier and healthier than when he had last seen her and he was pleased. _When years and years had passed and she had gone from living memory, this would be how she was remembered, at her brightest._ “It is perfection,” he told Rhaenys quietly, “apart from the band of gold, it should be a crown.” She had been the queen after all.

“A crown of gold?” she asked at the same level of volume.

“Perhaps or perhaps winter roses.” He smiled at her and she smiled back. She saw him looking at her pendant and handed it to him so he could look closer. He was examining the familiar circle when a flustered page came in, saying they were needed for closing dances. "It's not closing dances for ages yet? Who sent you?" she demanded.

"The Prince, My Lady." he replied, bowing. Rhaenys looked sadly at the portrait.

"Egg doesn't like it." she said gesturing to it, "he says it makes him sad." To the page she asked," Did Aegon send you?"

"No, it was prince Jon, My Lady."

Rhaenys looked surprised but sighed and they went back to the feast.


	5. Her Last Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime returns to the Rock, his promise fulfilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I can't believe I finished something. I mean this was just some one-shot prequel thing, like did anyone really have to know how Brienne became Rhaenys sworn shield but here you go. Heads up, this one is very flowery, like if you've read the portrait you'll probably know I like writing about flowers but I've taken it to a whole new level. Instead of sugar its flowers. I'm not a professional florist so I got the meanings from the internet, sorry if they're wrong. Mentions of death, incest, sickness. I think this one is quite angsty? I hope it hasn't tipped the line into completely self-indulgent but to be honest I'm just glad Ii finished one thing. The portrait's next finally. All mistakes are mine and feedback welcome. I do respond to all comments eventually. I would have got this up sooner but I've had a bad week.

They walked back slowly to the Great Hall, arm in arm.

“Thank you for showing that to me.” He said softly so not even Brienne trailing behind them could hear. He didn’t want to go back, to that huge, stuffy hall with all those random onlookers and ghosts from the past and Cersei. . .He had known vaguely she had been there and he still wasn’t sure what to do about it. He no longer felt that white hot rush of anger.Was she still angry with him?

"Did you like the portrait?" Rhaenys enquired of Brienne." My Father got the finest artist to capture her."

"It was. . a work of art, I mean I know it's a work of art but I meant." Brienne stumbled over her own tongue. Jaime turned his head around and made a face at her. She blushed. He decided to take pity on her.

"Like those stained glass windows in Tarth right. " He prompted, nodding encouragingly at Brienne. She lit up and relaxed a little. By the time they got to the Great Hall doors the two women were walking side by side in deep conversation, no longer needing Jaime to grease the wheels of their talking. _They didn't need him anymore._ The thought popped into his head, stark and cruel as only fundamental truths could be.

“Jaime.” He turned around and there she was. She looked radiant in an emerald brocade dress, green jewels winking in her golden tresses.

“Cersei.” He said, he didn’t know what else to say.

“Dance with me?” she asked. He hesitated. “Would you please, only if you want to?” she pleaded. He nodded and led her onto the floor. He could see Robert, drunk enough to have focused his leery attentions onto one target, a pretty, big breasted girl. They began the swooping elaborate steps.

“Jaime, I’m sorry about what I said.”

“Which part?” he answered as neutrally as possible.

“I won’t lie to you Jaime I was upset, I thought you had misled me and thinking of my poor son, you know Robert will only leave him rags, all his inheritance goes straight into some ugly whore’s purse.” Jaime waited, that wasn’t good enough, they both knew it. “But I reacted terribly,” she continued, “It is completely up to you who the Rock is left too. I was surprised and angry and I acted rashly. Forgive me, please?” Her voice trembled a little as if she was suppressing a great deal of emotion. Jaime felt himself soften. It was harder to be angry or upset with her when she was right in front of him, when he was holding her. His whole world seem to shrink to her pleading green eyes once more. In the corner of his eye he saw the princess talking with the Lady Elaena, Brienne by her side. He wasn’t needed anymore, the messenger, the introducer whatever he was, he had fulfilled his role. He refocused on Cersei who was looking at him expectantly. “As long as we are understood that Tyrion is to inherit upon my death?”

“Unless you have children. Unless you marry, you may meet someone yet.” She whispered as they twirled around.

“No.” He said firmly. He knew there would never be anyone, how could there be? His other half was before him and who wanted to love half a person? Marry half a person? And who could compare to the woman before him?

"You could come to my room tonight." she offered, whispering in his ear." Robert insisted on having his own separate chambers, we won't be disturbed." Her voice was coloured with scorn for her husband but the offer was a sincere one. He nodded before he even thought about it. They had made up, so now was the time to go back, fall into the same, familiar comforting pattern. She leaned back a little as they were still in a crowded room but her smile was full of promises for tonight. She would leave first and prepare her chamber and he would follow.

He was following Cersei when he heard Brienne call his name softly. He turned around. “Jaime, I’m sorry, are you going to sleep? It’s just that. . “ she trailed off. He followed her eye line and saw Cersei’s retreating figure, recognisable in her green dress. He saw comprehension in her eyes and she blushed, her freckly face crimson. She dropped her eyes. He felt something in his stomach drop. He hadn’t wanted her to know he realised but she did. It was stupid, he wasn't ashamed, he would never be ashamed of his love yet he couldn't deny it, he wished she didn't know.

“Just what?” he snapped.

She took a step back. “The necklace, erm. . . you still have it? I was going to give it to the Princess.” She still wasn’t looking at him in the eye. It made him feel small. Until now they didn’t have to acknowledge it, pass through it but now it was out there like some dark cloud on the edge of their vision. His hand closed around the pendant. Truthfully he’d forgotten he had it. He passed it to her and thought of the time in the wood, seemingly so long ago when he held its twin, talking to her in the woods. “Have a good evening.” She mumbled politely and immediately blushed deeper.

“You too. ” he said awkwardly and turned around and walked away so he didn't have to look at her anymore. He found Cersei waiting in bed.

He fell into an uneasy sleep. He was walking in Casterly’s gardens alone but he felt like he was looking for something. Looking down he realised he was dressed in his golden armour and he wore a Valyrian steel sword. . . Brightroar? He thought vaguely. His stomach dropped as he saw the colour of the cloak fluttering behind him. _White. He ripped it off and looked for the blood. There was none, it was a pure, brilliant white_. “What are you doing?” He recognised the voice before he even turned around. “Elia?” he span around but she wasn’t there. “Elia?” he called again. He began to walk faster but he seemed to be going round and round. He needed help, he needed . . . “Brienne?" He called feeling like an idiot. Suddenly he saw her at the entrance to the maze. She walked into it which made him frown, Brienne didn't like the maze that much, like him they thought it was overcomplicated waste of garden. He followed Brienne.

“Wait!” he called after her, “Wait!” But she didn’t wait; she just kept walking and walking away from him. Twists and turns he waked after her unable to catch her even though he tried running. It went on and on, blurs of green leaves and the red and golden flowers woven throughout in another effort to spread the Lannister colours into every nook and cranny of the Rock.

“Stop.” he almost begged.

She finally looked back over her shoulder. “We’re here.”

There was a fork in the maze hedges. Both were adorned with a pretty delicate, circular flower that Jaime recognised from one of his walks with the Queen. One fork had pure white ones the other a soft pink. “Is she there? Is the Queen down one of these paths. Which one? Who's down the other?” he asked her. She didn't reply. For some reason Jaime remembered a vague echo of another dream many moons ago.

“Who do you want to see the most?” Brienne asked.

He felt unsure suddenly. “Will you come with me?”

“There’s no place for me there.” She walked away from him.

“Wait,” he said, she stopped but he didn’t know what to say.

“You don’t have much time.” She warned. Pure white lilies had begun to burst open next to the pale pink flowers. The flowers of mourning, he knew which route to take. He set off, comforted by the sound of Brienne's footsteps behind him. There were so many flowers now. He could recall some and the meanings behind them due to the Queen's effort to tech him a little. There had not been much interest, especially on his part but over time the exercise had helped them bond and had become an inexplicable foundation of their friendship. It was a good way to pass the time when there was a mad monarch demanding you do nothing without his permission. Even Aerys couldn't fault the so called "flower arranging" as he so sneeringly called it. He tried to remember some of them, so he could look up their meanings when he awoke. It was like she was trying to communicate with him from beyond the grave through their shared language and Jaime didn't want to miss a word. But there were too many, he was lost in their dizzying scents. He stumbled in a very accurate impression of his drunk goodbrother, rounding a corner he came to his destination.

“Hello Jaime.” She was in a small clearing, sat on the edge of a fountain that looked vaguely familiar but didn’t seem quite right. It was white marble and three dragons were twisted together in its centre, each clawing towards the sun, their scales and fierce expressions carved in exquisite detail. She sat at the edge trailing her fingers on the calm surface of the circular bowl of water. She was wearing a beautiful golden, red and orange dress that also seemed strangely familiar. Her crown of gold glinted in the sunlight. The sight made him feel calm. “Elia. . . I can’t believe it’s you. . I . . .you have to meet Brienne, she’s, I. “ he could barely speak, “ the protector, I found her.”

“That’s brilliant, Jaime. Where is she?” she asked him.

“She’s. . . “ he looked around but she was gone. “I don’t know where she is.” He felt panic rise up. “She was just here. . .she, where is she?”

“What do you want to say to me Jaime?” Elia asked, her eyes serious. Jaime was lost for words. He didn’t know what to say, he would have given almost anything for another conversation so why wasn’t he talking? “You have to meet her, it’ll be great. Just wait here, right on this spot, I’ll go and find her, wait here.”

She looked at him sadly. “She sounds wonderful.”

“Yes,” he agreed scanning the glade,” just, I’m going to go that way/”

“You won’t find her.” She said softly.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re dreaming Jaime. If she was here she would be here but she’s not.”

“Why isn’t she appearing then? Brienne I summon thee.” He waved his hands around like he had seen a mummer do when he was a boy. She smiled but she was still sad. She was so sad, even when she smiled.

“She shouldn’t be here anyway.” She looked into the pool of water. “She is living, only the dead should haunt the dreams of the living.”

“You don’t haunt me.” He said quickly,” I wanted to see you, I wanted. . .” What did he want? "Oh I can't think, all these scents are messing with my head. There are not this many flowers at the Rock."

"Is that where we are?"

"Yes, yes, we should go, I could show you around like I promised all those years ago. And we could find Brienne. . " she was shaking her head. White tulips grew at her feet. Their meaning eluded him.

"What do they mean?" he asked.

"Many things," she answered in a mysterious voice. "Seeking forgiveness usually and the pale pink ones mean longing.” She smiled at him and he flushed embarrassed. "What would you like to say to me Jaime?" she repeated.

He looked down at his feet. His cloak matched the tulips he thought randomly. "I just miss you." Four words, simple ones but it still hurt. After all these years it hurt. "I feel very confused at the moment. I keep turning phrases in my head, ready to write them down, or turn my face to speak to you for just a split-second before I remember, it kills me a little each time I. . I just really miss you and I'm sorry. . I'm so sorry. .”

“What for?” she asked seeming puzzled. He stepped forward until he was right in front of her. To his surprise her reflection in the clear water was different, it showed her as he had last seen her, her face hallowed with sickness and her hair streaked with strands of silver. He looked away sharply in shock. She took his hand. It was as warm and small as he remembered.

“Why is your reflection different?” he asked quietly.

“It’s how you want to remember me I suppose.” She gestured to her healthier body, her thick, curly hair dark and shiny. Jaime was taken aback. Was that true? He didn’t like to focus on her appearance the last time he had seen her, he didn’t want to see her pain. It was easier to focus on the words they had exchanged. But that wasn’t all her, he knew how she hated to be judged on her weak body.

“I’m sorry, appear as you want to.” He insisted. This close there was still that faint, lingering scent of her perfume even under the overwhelming aroma of the flowers. It was coming back to him, walking beside her on her allowed walks. In an attempt to fill the silence he so hated he had tried flattery, complimenting her perfume without really meaning it. "It's made with my favourite flower." she replied with an amused, knowing smile as if she knew what he was doing. That had annoyed him at the time. She had seemed as reserved and unreachable as her husband and he was already bored with his duties, surely he was made for greater things than following some Dornish Princess around? She had told him what it was, the flower but for the life of him he couldn't remember.

“You’re starting to get some grey hairs of your own.” She said teasingly, "What are you sorry for Jaime? You fulfilled your last promise to me?"

"For. . for everything. For not protecting you from him. For being so difficult. For not writing better letters, I mean it's just sometimes I didn't know what to write. For not staying with you . .when you . . " he looked away, "for not being there. . " .

"Jaime, do you know why I asked you to find my little girl a protector?" she spoke very gently and he felt her pass him a flower. He looked down and in his hand bloomed a delicate rose, the colour of light yellow, it's fragrance faint but sweet. He looked back at her face. "I've seen you looking confused at all these flowers, I think it's because you're so confused, everything is always so overwhelming when we're confused, isn't it? I knew you were only ever half listening about the language of flowers. But I think you remember this one."

"Friendship." he said

"I had them grown in the gardens, do you remember? Just before you left, I would walk past it and think of you and your fake interest face." she laughed to herself. "You were my friend Jaime but I had others, the reason I chose you is because you did such a good job protecting me. " 

He look down at their hands, a little embarrassed. "I'm so pleased you're here." he admitted.

"But I'm not." He snapped his head back up. "I'm not Jaime, I'm dead." He shook his head. She felt real. "You know you can give this rose to others, it's not a betrayal or anything. It's important to have people to speak with, have fun with/"

"You're the only one who understands what it was like." he protested, "Only you can understand completely the Kingslayer. Tyrion, he tries but he can barely remember me from before and Cersei, I can't. I just can't."

"What about Brienne? She seems important to you."

"It's too late. . I have you for this anyway."

"Jaime, we are running out of time. Take this." she offered the flower. He took it. Suddenly a blinding light broke through behind them, so he could barely see her. It bounced off the water, and made the flowers shine. "The sun, it is rising." she explained. "It's happening. My mother used to always say that. My daughters sun is rising but mine it has set Jaime, do you understand?" He couldn't see her features in the bright light, could only feel her hand in his. He shook his head wildly. Her sun could never set. "It has Jaime, it has set. Please remember to see what is really there and . . . thankyou for your yellow rose, make sure the next person is worthy of your friendship." The bright light was now almost painful and the glade of flowers began to spin as he squinted and blinked. Her hand slipped from his, leaving only the rose.

Cersei was looking at him, sleep rumpled and a little annoyed. "You woke me." she complained rubbing her eye.

"I'm sorry." he mumbled, running his hands through his mussed hair.

"You were saying Elia a lot." she said, her green eyes narrowed.

"I guess today has stirred up some memories." he said vaguely, not meeting her eye.

"Really? Her daughter is much prettier than her mother ever was." Cersei commented acidly.

"She's young enough to be my daughter." Jaime said tiredly.

"That's not what I meant." she argued, "Anyway you might as well go, it's still early." Jaime nodded numbly and left.

A few hours later, the castle was buzzing with activity as everyone recovered from their last nights revelry. Jaime went looking for Brienne but only saw Tyrion briefly. He was full of chatter and excitement. Finally he saw her with the Princess. They from an outsider point of view might seem like an odd pair but to Jaime he saw what he had searched for. He waved at Brienne. He saw her pretend not to see him. The rejection stung like a slap. 

He was eating in his chamber when he finally saw Brienne again.

“There you are.” He smiled at her and gestured for her to sit and eat but she remained standing. Just keep smiling, Jaime thought, this strange awkwardness will go away.

“Have you had a good day?” she asked, fumbling with her sword hilt.

“Yes, very. I’m meeting with the Princess after this. She’s won over Tyrion already. In fact I was thinking that we could ask her to perhaps confirm you? I know the King said I could stay but. . . well I don’t know how long his burst of goodwill will last.”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” She paused and took a deep breath as if steeling herself for something. “I have sworn my shield to Lady Rhaenys of House Targaryen, the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms.” Jaime’s first thought was of Elia, her small hand clutching his as she asked him. Where ever she was he hoped she had seen it. Then came the hurt and to his shame, anger. For years he had waited for this moment, to see his promise fulfilled and he had missed it. Brienne and Rhaenys had excluded him from it. It was absurd to feel this way but he couldn’t help it. He had always imagined being there. The mysterious saviour Elia had wished for bent before a princess with dark tresses. Over the years Jaime had dreamed that dream, the face of the knight blurred though they were always wearing white. He was always there though. Except he hadn’t been. Except he had missed it.

“Really? How wonderful." He kept his face smiling.

"It just . . well the timing was. . it was just the right time. . " she trailed off lamely.

There was something she wasn’t telling him he realised. Something had happened. Jaime was tempted to ask, to continue to be involved but he knew he couldn’t. He himself had told her weeks ago after training one day. They had spoken a little about King’s Landing and he had explained about what a façade it was. The cesspool of politics and power. When you gave someone your sword and shield you had to be sure he said. “Were you sure. . at Harrenhall?” she asked him. The question had taken him aback, he hadn’t thought about it in so long. His friendship with Elia had meant that tourney had taken on a whole new meaning for him but in that moment it came flooding back. The mounting bitterness as he realised what Aerys had actually wanted from him. In hindsight he seems so stupid, why had he ever even wanted to serve Aerys anyway? He had never really liked him particularly, he was just the King. “I was young and impulsive.” _I wanted glory, he thought and my golden sister._ But he went on to explain one of the realities of knighthood, the code of secrecy. The secrets of the person you had sworn too could eat you up inside. It was now her duty to protect her and Rhaenys secrets from everyone. Even him.

"Brienne, it's fine really." He said. "What was it like?" He couldn't help himself.

"It was. . everything you said it would be. It happened at dawn, just when the sun broke through the clouds. I was like a song." Her voice was full of wonder.

"Dawn, when the sun rose? Just then?" He tried to keep his voice steady. She nodded, a little bemused. He smiled back.

“Are you angry?” Rhaenys asked him, fiddling with her pendant.

“Why would I be angry with you?” he asked.

“Because I’ve stolen your friend.” She said softly “And I know how hard it is to find true friends.” She looked very young then, looking out of the window and wrapping the chain round her finger.

“You can’t steal Brienne, she’s a person and a very stubborn one. And. . .I bought her here, I’m glad that the person I found pleases you.” Jaime replied truthfully.

“Were you worried about that?” she asked surprised.

“Of course . . . well I knew she was what I and well what I hoped your mother wanted but you, well you are your own person and . . .” he trailed off. She put her hand on his arm and smiled at him.

“I can’t speak for my mother well, no I can’t but I can speak for me so thank you.” He wen to hug her almost instinctively but paused remembering she wasn't her mother. She wrapped her arms around him and he could still smell the faint scent of the perfume. Rhaenys had bound her hair back in a long braid and she wore a long sleeved black and red dress, with dragons sewn around the hem and sleeves. The perfume was the last impression of last night.

"The perfume, is it your mothers?" he asked.

"Oh," she flushed a little," Yes, I don't really wear it, just for special occasions." She saw his expression. "Is everything okay?"

"I had a dream last night about your mother and flowers." he confessed. " I was trying to remember which one is distilled in her perfume but couldn't." Rhaenys looked thoughtful.

"It might be in her book." she offered.

"Her book?" he asked to thin air as she walked off and unlocked her drawer. She returned with a shabby, faded purple notebook he recognised though back then it had been slim and new. Now it was bursting with clippings and cuttings, all about flowers. They were about to look through when Aegon entered and stopped dead at the sight of them bending over it together.

"What are you doing with that?" he asked without preamble.

"I was just showing it to Jaime Egg." Rhaenys said airily.

Jaime didn’t quite know what to make of Aegon. Whenever he had thought of him previously it was always contingent with Elia. She was always holding him in his mind or reading to him or something like that. He was a baby. But the baby had grown up with his own personality and goals and interests. It was a little strange. He certainly looked like Rhaegar with his silver hair but his eyes were lighter, almost lilac like his Uncle Viserys. Aegon greeted him politely and asked after his health, his courtesies as the future king were much more charming than his father’s at the same point of his life as the heir in waiting had been.

"I hope you don't mind if I speak to my sister privately?" Aegon asked politely. Jaime did mind. He was reminded of Rhaegar and his habit of interrupting his wife and Jaime as if he was trying to remind them of his existence. But he bowed and left, deciding to seek out Tyrion.

Before he found him, he crossed paths with Lyanna. Lyanna seem to look unchanged. She was still youthful, her skin unlined, her hair usually unbound and her dresses simple. There were dark circles under her eyes though. She had had them when he had met her all those years ago but back then she had been clutching a newborn, an explanation for the purple circles. Still after all these years it seemed she couldn’t get peaceful rest. Perhaps it was his jab at her tourney attempts from last night while her son glared at him. He was past caring at this point in time.

The next few days past strangely. It was weird to be back and Jaime seemed to receive a lot of attention because of his status as a recluse and a Kingslayer. Gossip bred faster than rabbits. Lords turned away in disgust. The pious muttered about sins and forgiveness. One Septon even approached him while Rhaenys was showing him the city, beseeching him to find the Gods and forgiveness. "I'll just grow some white tulips instead." he replied carelessly. Highborn maidens and widows angled at a chance to become the Lady of Casterly Rock. The King clearly regretted inviting him, in fact he was in a stranger mood than usual and that was saying something. Lyanna looked like she was a repressing a deep sigh every time she saw him. The Stark prince face darkened when he saw him though Jaime didn't know why, it wasn't as if the boy had any fond memories of his dearly departed grandfather.

There was Rhaenys though and her tours of the Keep and the city. He wished they were completely alone but he knew practically that would never happen. There was the gaggle of ladies, one of her princess duties. She seemed genuinely fond of a few but most were treated with restrained courtesy. Her only close friend, Jaime had gathered from Tyrion, Lady Elaena had gone back to the Reach citing concerns with her health. Rumour had it she was pregnant.

"That is wonderful news." He said to her as they waited for dinner in a rare moment alone.

"Yes. They are very happy." she replied looking at the tapestries lining the wall.

"Do you miss her much?"

"Her husband has a great need for her outweighing my wishes." Her tone was neutral but it made Jaime laugh.

"A Princess can command any man. Speaking of men, I saw Ronnet Connington hanging around you today. He is trouble." There were of course many suitors that also wished to infringe on their limited time.

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ser Jaime you have the subtly of an avalanche, that was not a smooth conversation change. Also I have a working pair of eyes and my head isn't filled with sawdust. I am well aware of his shortcomings." Her tone made it clear Brienne had confided in her pleasing Jaime. "I have to be polite to him. Lord Jon is his cousin and Lord Jon is dear to the King. I should give him no reason to further dislike me."

"He dislikes you?" Jaime was surprised. Lord Jon was so loyal to House Targaryen.

"I am a reminder that the King will never love him the way he wants him too. Deep down inside. That part of his heart he won't confront, it screams in pain at the sight of me." her words were bitter but she was staring off into the middle distance as if she wasn't fully present. Jaime digested the information and tried to as Elia put it look what is really there. It was a matter of the heart. It had to be. She was the right age. A beautiful princess surrounded by adoring suitors. Finally one had distinguished themselves.

"So who is it? The lucky person who has won the princess' heart?" he asked startling her and making her flush, in his mind confirming the suspicion. 

"No-one." He crossed his arms disbelievingly. She fiddled her pendant anxiously and looked around to check they were alone. "It's nothing, it could never work. It's forbidden." Jaime's mind raced with possibility. When hearing those words forbidden love, his mind naturally went to his own but surely Rhaenys didn't mean. . he had observed no romantic love between her and her brothers. They are Targaryens after all, a small voice pointed out in his head.

"I know your family has a history/" he began carefully.

"By the Seven. it's not my brother." Her face had wrinkled up in disgust. "Just because I'm a Targaryen doesn't mean I have those desires."

"I wouldn't judge you." Jaime said seriously and the sincerity must have shone through in his voice as she gave him an odd look. Suddenly his mind alighted on an idea. Of course he was unsuitable, probably a lowlier class. There were so many men of unequal status to her, the chances of her falling for one was high. "I understand now. There is no need to panic. Your grandmother had a similar situation in her youth." Rhaenys looked genuinely surprised at that revelation. Jaime reasoned Rhaella would have wanted him to comfort her granddaughter even if it meant revealing something she had kept hidden.

"Really?" Rhaenys asked, still worrying her pendant.

"Yes and what your great, great uncle was it?" Rhaenys looked a little hopeful. "Well he was famous for it. So who is your Jenny then?" Her face fell slightly. "You can tell me. This sort of thing does happen. If he is a worthy man it does not matter if he is poorer or less grand than you. I know how forbidden love seems exciting but in reality it is tiring and draining."

"You sound as if you speak from experience." she said carefully.

"Perhaps." he said mysteriously. "It makes no matter. I shall be single forever."

"You sound so certain."

"Why shouldn't I be?" he answered as Tyrion arrived interrupting their conversation. "Just tell me if he hurts you and I will hunt him down and make him beg at your feet." he whispered to her later and she smiled a small smile at him and they spoke no more of it.

Jaime's favourite parts were him, her, Brienne and Tyrion together just laughing the day away. She took him to her favourite charities, she watched him and Brienne spar and they all listened to Tyrion's ideas on economic recovery. Even when Daenerys appeared, something Jaime had dreaded, the princess had smoothed it over. Daenerys was more interested in his brother anyway, he even to Jaime's surprise called her Dany.There was book discussions which Jaime mostly napped through, dinners and lunches and trips out like to see the Bay or visit one of his old favourite shops.

It couldn't last though. He stored every happy memory like they were precious gems. When nearly a week had gone by, he knew he had to leave.

The night before Tyrion came to him subdued. Jaime knew then, something he had suspected but had pushed aside as it was too painful.

"You want to stay." he said flatly. Tyrion nodded. There was a dull ache in his chest. It was already going to be so hard to return after meeting Rhaenys and with Brienne gone . . no, he wouldn't finish that thought.

"It's nothing to do with you Jaime," Tyrion began," It's just this place." He stared around in wonder. .Jaime felt sick. He had warned Tyrion of its true nature but Tyrion he had to finally admit to himself seemed to enjoy the mechanics of the game of thrones. "I just think if one day I'm going to rule the Rock, I need to see more than the Rock, experience more, make some allies and some enemies, those tend to come hand in hand. And I enjoy the Princess' company. I'll be back in a few moons." Jaime nodded and smiled but he knew the promise was empty. What could he do? Tyrion was no fool and he had spent the last few years only helping Jaime. How could Jaime resent him for wanting a life a bit more separate from him?

"It has all worked out then. I told you Brienne was the one." Jaime commented mostly to change the subject.

"I never doubted it." came the surprising reply. "I just wanted you to be happy and . . I think the Queen would have wanted it too." With that he left, leaving Jaime no chance to frame a reply.

His day of departure came and the Princess came to see him off at the stables. They were alone apart from Brienne in her new armour guarding the door.

"I know you didn't convince Tyrion to stay." He said to cut off any possible apology attempt. They had gotten on like a house on fire, exchanging witticisms and arguments on obscure Valyrian poetry but Jaime knew she would never steal him. She smiled at him sadly. "I don't want you to go." The honesty hurt his heart a little. He realised it would be the first time he was actually finding it difficult to leave Kings Landing. "I have something for you." She handed him two objects. One was a glass bottle filled with amber liquid which with one sniff he realised was Elia's perfume and the other her book of flowers. He felt a little overwhelmed.

"Look, Tyrion mentioned to me that you had never really accepted my Mother's death. That's okay" she added hurriedly at his expression." I don't think I have either. I mean what is acceptance? How can we accept she's gone? It's like this huge hole and nothing can ever even begin to fill it even though you distract yourself and have loved ones and duties. This stuff helped me quite a lot last year especially the book. Don't worry about the perfume, Lady Lyanna hates it so the King has stopped using it. Not that he did that often. Anyway, I'm going to replace it. " Jaime shook his head and handed her the book, it was too personal to just give away. "As for the book," she continued, "that's a loan. My mother found gardening really peaceful and Tyrion says the gardens at Casterly are awful. Use it and when we meet again which will be soon, well Casterly will have a piece of her then and you can give it back to me." She hugged him.

"Thank you for coming. I'll leave you two to say goodbye." Her eyes were shining as if with unshed tears and she fled, her long black braid swinging behind her. Jaime saw the King looking at them from a distance but was distracted by Brienne's approach.

"Well this is it." He said brightly. He had already bade Tyrion farewell so this was definitely. . .it. He put his gifts carefully in his personal bag. She was closer than she had been in days.

"Goodbye Brienne." Part of him wished Rhaenys hadn't left. What should he say?

"I wanted to thank you again for the opportunity Ser Jaime. It's like my own song." She smiled at him ruefully. "I have written to my father of your kindness and I hope it wouldn't be presumptuous to assume I could write to you too?" He blinked in surprise. He was a poor writer but he remembered Elia's words and nodded. She didn't realise it but she was part of a song, he could picture it, as great as any knights. It was a shame he was only part of the first verse.

"Thankyou too Brienne. You are a good. . friend." He waited for his rose to be rejected but she smiled and returned the compliment. He wanted to say how he would miss her and was reminded of how he debated whether to tell Elia of his love for her but dismissed it after realising a declaration of friendship couldn't balm the wound of a broken marriage and public humiliation. He wondered what Brienne would do if he told her that and immediately blushed. For some reason that thought was terrifying. He stepped back and mounted his horse.

The journey back was lonely.

His arrival at Casterly was quiet in the late evening. He had raced home for no real reason. He had nothing to look forward too apart from Cersei's visit next moon.

The great doors opened. A few servants stood by ready to get anything he would command of them. He could yell at them, throw things at them, what would they do? He went straight up to his chamber. This was ridiculous, he thought, how could it feel so. . .empty? The rock had always been huge, monstrously so but it had never felt this way before. It was only two people. True Brienne and Tyrion were important of course they were but still. He wondered vaguely what he should do tomorrow. He should do something. He made a promise to himself to be productive tomorrow, to not wallow; he was an adult after all. He paced around his room, his mood getting darker and darker. He went to Brienne's old chamber for no real reason he could understand. In her room were vases of fresh flowers. He vaguely remembered Tyrion commenting on her chambermaid's love for his new house guest. Little Rosamund was in awe of Brienne and collected some flowers for her. His hand rested on some small lily-like blooms. He couldn't remember the name, he could check in the book but he could hear Elia's clear voice of its meaning. _Peace_.

"Get me some yellow roses. Not the horrid golden vanity ones, yellow ones. Now!" he demanded a passing servant who looked at him as if he was mad considering the time of night. His request was of course completed though it took them long enough as the roses weren't grown near the house. First thing to change, Jaime thought. In the meantime he got out the ornate, patterned box from under his bed and forced himself to read every word of her familiar, elegant script. He would accept it. He had too. He put on a pair of gloves not because he was scared of pain but rather he didn't want to spoil it with his red blood. The yellow, delicate roses were lovely but they still had thorns. It took longer than he thought to fashion them into a crown shape. It took a lot of careful twisting and shaping so not to split or damage the stems or flowers. He then wove in the white blossoms from Brienne's room and placed the crown gently with all the letters back in the box. The crown of friendship. He shut the lid softly. And waited. And waited. And waited.

"I still miss you." he said quietly to the darkness as there was no one there to say it too, even in that big, glorious, golden Rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there. . first ending I've ever written.


End file.
